


et in arcadia ego

by allmywill, Pink_and_Velvet



Category: Arcadia (UK Band), Duran Duran, Fashion Model RPF, Missing Persons (Band), The Power Station (Supergroup)
Genre: Anal Sex, Babies, Banter, Best Friends, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Boss/Employee Relationship, Champagne, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, First Meetings, Friendship, Getting Together, Goths, Hair Dyeing, Happy Ending, Humor, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Insecurity, Lapdance, Late Night Conversations, Lingerie, Love Confessions, M/M, Makeup, Making Love, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, Married Couple, Matchmaking, Minor Violence, Morning After, Music, Mutual Pining, POV Multiple, Riding, Rings, Roses, Sex for Favors, Sexy Times, Shopping, Showers, Singing, Smoking, Staring, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Switching, Tattoos, Teasing, Wedding Fluff, brief mention of verbal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23276953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: Little does he realize, Simon’s first night inArcadiawill change everything.
Relationships: John Taylor/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran), Nick Rhodes & John Taylor (Duran Duran), Nick Rhodes/Andy Taylor (Duran Duran), Nick Rhodes/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes, Warren Cuccurullo/Amanda de Cadenet, Yasmin Le Bon/Renée Simonsen
Comments: 61
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this one’s been in the back of my mind for a while. get ready for a fun ride!!

Red and white lights burn above the stage as an instrumental track blares through the club’s speakers. It creates a dreamy atmosphere, time seeming irrelevant in the scheme of things. While waiting for the dancers to come on, Simon thinks of lyrics to fit with the melodic rhythm. He’s feeling rather broody lately.

He sits back at his table for one, black satin cloth draped on his and each one surrounding him. A single rose in a glass vase rests in the center. It looks lonely, if roses can get lonely. Simon reaches a long arm out to caress a rich red petal. It’s real, velvety soft against his fingertips.

He taps a finger on his thigh, crossing his legs. He fits here well so far; everyone around him is cloaked in blacks, reds, burgundies, and dark grays. Both men and women wear smoky eyes, dramatic to match the mood in the room. He catches a few in black lipstick, but plenty more in red. Some are toned down. Simon opted for a little eyeliner smudged beneath his eyes. He’s never been one for heavy makeup, on himself at least.

Pulling a small notebook and pen out of his pocket, he recalls the lyrics that came to mind for this track. It’s very beautiful, sexy yet soft enough to be mystical. Entrancing.

_As I wandered down to where you lay,  
the blood rushed up to meet the roses  
in your hair  
I thought I saw you smile  
But now I don't see you anywhere_

Satisfied with his work for now, he closes the notebook again and pockets it. He’ll flesh it out later when he has a chance. He is just in time, because the first dancer makes her way to the center pole, her glossy black fingernails tapping it. She looks quite like a member of the audience, but wearing much less. She’s outfitted in a leather skirt and black fishnet tights, tucked stylishly into leather knee high boots.

A rose printed choker accents a glittery red tube top, tight in all the right places. Theatrical makeup paints her smooth face. The house lights go down and the current song fades into something more upbeat. Two other dancers filter in behind her: another woman to her right, short and blonde, and a man to her left.

His long black hair is teased to perfection. Two darkened eyes stare out into the small crowd, his pretty face stony and void of emotion. Subtle pink lipstick is the only thing subtle about him. A black sparkly suit clings to his small body, and underneath, a matching sheer top.

It takes every fiber of Simon’s being not to throw himself at the man. He’s so close to the stage that it makes him sweat, his own dark attire much too hot to be feeling this way. He tugs at his collar, eyes never leaving the man in the sparkly suit.

He grips the pole with delicate hands, hardly moving. He doesn’t strike Simon as the dancing type. The blonde girl moves very much the same; he reckons it’s so they don’t draw too much attention away from the tall one in the front. But he hasn’t looked at her since the man came onstage.

Simon waits patiently for him to look his way. He’s only a handful of feet away, all it will take is for him to turn his head a little...

When he finally does, Simon stops breathing. He doesn’t look away, just slowly wraps a leg around the pole and leans back. His hair hardly moves, but Simon isn’t just looking at his hair. He drinks him in, every appealing inch of his form. The man’s green eyes only redirect as he pulls himself back up.

He looks away too, out of instinct. The other two dancers are good looking but they don’t do much for him. He would much rather watch the man. So he does.

The song changes, something sensual and almost filthy. All the dancers shimmy out of one article of clothing. Simon leans back in his seat as the man gets rid of the sparkly suit jacket, revealing the rest of the sheer black top underneath. He turns around and looks over his shoulder, more of his skin on display, but still not enough.

Simon doesn’t know what to do with himself. The audience is quiet, perhaps out of respect. The music makes it impossible to have any sort of conversation anyway, even with someone a foot away. Perhaps that’s a good thing. He didn’t come here to socialize.

The first part of the show continues, and Simon doesn’t look away. The man pouts, pink lips holding his attention as he moves slowly around the pole. He feels a familiar tightness in his trousers. He pretends it isn’t there.

Their eyes meet again. Simon nearly chokes on his own spit. More clothes are being shed, both women topless at this point. The man whips off his own, bare skin on show for only a few moments before the stage lights start to fade and the music slows.

There’s cheering and clapping around him, but he doesn’t hear it. He’s zoned out until he feels a tap on his shoulder, causing him to jump out of his skin.

Simon could’ve smacked the waiter, though he’s glad he didn’t. Getting thrown out is not on his agenda tonight. He needs to see the rest of the show, needs to see more of the man with the gorgeous lips and body to match.

“Sorry if I frightened you,” the waiter chuckles, leaning closer. “Would you like something to drink, sir?”

His brown hair is long and full of so much product that Simon can smell it on him. He’s got brown eyes and he’s quite tall. His name tag simply reads _John_.

Simon tries to get his act together. “Uh, sure.” He looks around, the stage dark now. “Bring me whatever, just no alcohol please.”

John nods. “Of course. Not a drinker?”

“Not much, no.” Simon smiles, friendly. He has finally snapped out of the trance he was in. “First time here.”

“Welcome to _Arcadia_ , then. I’m John,” he says, gesturing to his name tag. “I’m quite new here myself. My best friend put in a good word for me.”

“Simon, nice to meet you. Who’s your friend?”

“He was just up on the stage actually,” John clutches the menu, grinning. “He’ll be back out in a few.”

Simon’s jaw drops. _The man in the sparkly suit. Holy fuck._ “Oh. Can I... what’s his name?”

John raises a brow. “I’m not technically supposed to tell you, but something tells me I can trust you. His name is Nick and he’s _available_.”

Simon feels his cheeks heat up. _Nick. Available._ “I, uh... didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, Simon. He’s been looking for somebody like you. And the way you were watching him, I think you’re looking too.” John rests a large hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him.

Simon is stunned into silence, which is rare for him. He smiles, head spinning from all this new information. Tonight has been so unpredictable, and the night isn’t anywhere near over.

“I’ll go grab you a drink. On me.” John lifts his hand from his shoulder. “He’ll be back on soon, and I think you’ll love this next part,” he says with a wink before he walks away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i imagine Nick’s outfit to be similar to the one from _The Chauffeur _, so there’s that. enjoy 🖤__

The lights go down again and Simon’s heartbeat starts racing. He cards a hand through his black hair and waits for the dancers to return to the stage.

John’s words weigh heavy on his mind. He’s nervous. He’s excited. He thinks about Nick, what his voice might sound like, what he does outside of work. He wonders what he’s like.

His thoughts are cut short by the three of them coming back out, the lights above glowing red. The girls are in skin tight black lingerie, complete with garters, lacy gloves, and heels.

Nick fits right in with them. He’s in a sleeveless sheer fishnet top that seems to stretch all the way down his body, legs and all. Half a black vinyl bodysuit covers his lower half. Adorning both his wrists are tight leather cuffs, and as Simon’s eyes rake down his body, he notices something else. He too is in high heels.

He grips the pole with a smirk, looking out to the crowd. The music transforms to a hypnotic beat, pulsing rhythm filling the club. Simon is too busy freaking out over Nick to pay it mind. He looks absolutely stunning.

The woman in the front climbs the pole and it gives Simon an even better view of Nick. He wraps a leg around it and leans back, watching the movements of the other dancer. He then comes out front, hands behind his head, and sinks to his knees.

There’s a lock of black hair falling in his eyes. He meets Simon’s heavy gaze again, so much closer than he was before now that he’s on his knees. He parts his lips and smiles slightly before he throws his head back, exposing his pale neck. Simon thinks about pressing his lips all over it, other places too.

He doesn’t notice John approaching him, but he doesn’t scare him this time. He smiles and sets a tall glass down, with a slip of paper underneath. He leaves again and Simon looks back up to see Nick watching him. His skin is burning up, and it’s not just those eyes to blame.

He opens the note, hoping he can read it as the lights flash brighter.

_Vanilla Coke, his favorite. I’ll talk to him tonight. Come back the same time tomorrow night, we’ll both be here. —John_

Simon wonders if John plays matchmaker for all his friends. He folds the paper back up and slips it into his pocket. Sipping his drink, he redirects his vision to his new favorite dancer.

Same time tomorrow, it is.

———

“What have you been up to all night?”

“I could ask you the same, Nicky,” John chuckles, nudging Nick’s arm. He’s still scantily clad, but at least they’re in his dressing room now.

Nick sits on the black leather sofa, taking off his heels. After a while, they start to kill his feet. “Seriously. I saw you talking to that guy, so that’s why I asked.”

John loosens his tie and joins him, stretching out. He really wishes he had a dressing room with a nice leather sofa. “He’s into you.” John drops the bomb, not bothering to sugar coat it.

Nick looks at him as if he has three heads. “Don’t make jokes like that, Nigel.”

“I’ve never been more serious. And don’t _Nigel_ me.”

“So how do you know? That he’s into me?”

“Come on, he stared at you _all night long_.”

“I’m a stripper, of course he did.”

John groans. “I can tell it was more than that to him. Trust me.”

“What’s his name?” Nick asks, curious. “And what did you say to him?”

“His name is Simon and he’s coming back tomorrow night. I told him to.” John looks at his nails, hearing a knock on the door. “Come in!” he calls.

Nick looks at John, baffled as Roger walks in, just getting off his shift. “And how do you know he’ll come back?”

“Believe me, Nick. He will.”

He puts his head in his hands, black hair mussed. “Tell me, Rog, why do I put my love life in the hands of this idiot?”

Roger laughs, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over the chair at Nick’s vanity. “Because you’ve known each other forever.”

“ _Not_ a good enough reason.”

“So, who was it then?” Roger asks, looking between John and Nick.

John drapes an arm over the back of the sofa. “Tall, dark hair, wearing two different earrings, goes by Simon.”

Roger nods, recalling letting him in. “Oh, him.” He thinks for a moment, picturing him next to Nick. “I can see it. He’s your type.”

He nudges Nick and he pushes him away, big smile across his face. “I don’t have a type!”

“You totally do,” John chimes in. “I’m telling you, he liked what he saw.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Roger teases, gesturing to Nick. “There’s a reason Andy hired you.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Nick gets up, grabbing his clothes across the room. He’s starting to get cold; the fishnet not offering him much warmth. “I’m gonna get changed and head out, I’m knackered.”

John gets to his feet. “Alright, Rog. Guess that’s our cue. Hope your boyfriend shows tomorrow, Nick.”

“Shut up, Nigel!”

“Love you too. Goodnight, Nick.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for such a long wait! i finally have some time, so expect more updates!!

Nick comes home to an empty apartment. It’s eerily quiet and cool, a stark contrast to the club. As soon as the door shuts behind him, he thinks he would rather be at work. It’s been a long time since he felt this way.

He can’t seem to get Simon’s eyes off his mind, the way his intent stare locked with his own. There was more than heat in that gaze. He wants to believe John’s words; maybe he’s actually right for once. Maybe there’s hope with this one, maybe he’ll be more than a one night stand. He could be the paradise he longs for.

He starts to settle in, getting ready for bed, but he’s hardly tired. Removing his makeup and slipping under the hot spray of the shower, he can’t help but wonder about him. He allows himself to indulge in sweet fantasy, dreaming about how his touch would feel. He imagines Simon towering over him, pushing him up against a wall and letting his hands roam freely, over black lace adorning his pale thighs. And not to mention those damn lips, massaging his own, sucking and biting, hard yet not too hard...

Thoughts like this could get him into trouble. But he can’t stop himself, it’s a new sensation that he wants to wallow in for as long as he can. This is all so exciting, so promising. He just hopes John hasn’t ruined it for him already, like he has before.

It’s been so long since he had someone to call his for more than a night. Nick knows he can’t mess it up this time. He should give John more credit; he did notice their chemistry right away, the blatant interest swimming in their eyes. He figures he should make it up to him, for putting him through all this. He surely deserves it after all the trouble he goes to.

Nick climbs into cold sheets and the lonely feeling settles within him. Closing his eyes, he pictures those big hands caressing him and the weight of his lips upon his own. He is comforted by the mere premonition, and soon enough, he falls deep into a dreamless sleep. No nightmares tonight.

———

“You’ll be out in the front tonight, Nick.”

Nick nearly falls over as he processes Andy’s words. _Of all nights, why tonight? For fuck’s sake._ He knows he shouldn’t argue with his boss, but with something as inconvenient as this, he can’t help himself.

He’s glad they’re alone. The girls saw their way out of his office once they were given their orders for the night. He sighs, pacing closer to his desk. “Haven’t we discussed this already? I’m not a lead dancer, Andy. I’ve never been and I don’t plan to be.”

“You’re capable of more than you think. I’ve seen what you can do,” Andy stands up from his seat, resting his hands on the edge of the desk. “Please, Nick. Just one night is all I’m asking of you.”

Simon crosses his mind. It all seems perfect in theory, but he’s worried he could ruin the good thing he has going. He starts to wonder if John put Andy up to this, to get more attention on him, Simon’s attention in particular. If that’s true, he has never wanted to slap his best friend more. _He’s going to get it later, the bastard._

Nick crosses his arms. He has an idea, and he might just be able to get his own way. “Okay. I’ll do it, under one condition.”

Andy laughs, hearty, looking at Nick’s freshly made up face. “And what would that be?”

“You let me reserve the front and center table.”

He looks surprised at the request, yet he doesn’t seem put off by it. Nick saves a sigh of relief for later, gazing at his boss through heavily lined eyes.

“Alright, that’s a lot more mild than I expected of you. You got it.” Andy picks up his pen and crosses something out in his planner.

Nick’s jaw drops. “Mild? What did you think I was going to say?”

“Oh, nothin’. So, who are the lucky bastards who get the best seats in the house tonight?” 

Nick blushes, nervous just thinking about the night ahead. Maybe it won’t be so bad. “Just one bastard.”

Andy raises a brow, disappearing underneath his long hair. “Does somebody have a new _flame_ , then?” he asks with a smirk.

“It’s complicated,” he admits. “I uh, hope so. Is John in yet? I need to talk to him.”

“He should be, unless he’s late. Which wouldn’t surprise me in the least, knowing him.”

Nick turns, ready to dash out of his office. “Alright, thank you, Andy. It means a lot.”

“Don’t get used to it!” he calls after his dancer. It’s always been hard to say no to that face.

———

Nick finds John putting fresh roses in the vases at the tables. He gives him quite a shock when he comes barreling towards him, interrupting his quiet work. He drops a few roses on the matte black floor, jumping as Nick tugs hard on his sleeve.

“John! You aren’t going to _believe_ this.”

“Jesus, Nick, you scared the shit outta me.”

Nick bends down and retrieves the fallen roses, the stems bare of thorns. He laughs, mostly at himself. John’s clumsy ways have never changed and he’s certainly not being of any help with that in this moment.

“What is it?” John asks him, gathering the rest of the roses, their hands brushing in the process.

“I’m center pole tonight.”

“You’re _what?_ ”

“You heard me.”

John turns his attention back to the table, placing a rose in the vase without knocking it over. “Okay, but what about Simon?”

Nick follows him as he moves tables. “Andy let me reserve the front and center table,” he says with a smirk, pastel pink lips upturned.

“Really? How’d you manage that one?” John looks to him, eyeing him up. He looks strangely smug. “Oh, no. Please don’t tell me you sucked him off.”

“Fuck no, gross!” The mere thought has Nick recoiling. He wouldn’t dream of it.

“Thank god.”

“He likes me though. How do you think you got this job?”

John chuckles, fixing an out of place petal on one of the roses. “I guess you’re right.”

He makes his way to the table of choice, Nick in tow. They both stop and share a look, thoughts very much the same. Nick takes two roses out of his hand and leans over the table. He slips them both into the vase, then smooths the black satin tablecloth out with a manicured hand.

Stepping back, he’s grinning wide. They admire the roses, no longer on their lonesome. John nudges his shoulder playfully.

“You’ll reel him right in, Nick. No doubt about it.”

“I don’t know, John. Something tells me I already have.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, Nick is in another outfit from _The Chauffeur _. you’re welcome for that mental image.__

Simon finds himself preening in front of the mirror for longer than he originally anticipated, the minutes ticking by as he tweaks his outfit. He’s never been like this, never so concerned with the way he looks. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

He runs a hand through his hair and thinks about Nick. He lost sleep the previous night, too busy conjuring up conversations in his head. Going as far as practicing in the mirror, he knows how deep he’s in it. And he doesn’t see himself going back.

He wonders if Nick thought about him too. As he works more gel into his hair, Simon ponders what their first meeting will be like. He’s hoping it goes well. He’s praying Nick will like him.

The nerves start to get to him, minutes ticking by faster and faster. He’s going to be late if he doesn’t hurry it up, but he can’t get himself into gear. He paces his apartment and breathes deep, humming a tune to himself. It does nothing to soothe him and he returns to the bathroom mirror, staring himself down.

He grabs hold of the sink. Eyes closed, he replays the memory of Nick smiling at him. Those lips were so entrancing, his energy unbelievable. It feels like so long ago now, though it was only last night. He looks up and meets his own eyes, bright blue under the vanity lights.

Now is his chance. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he missed it. He rolls up the sleeves of his jacket, exposing his subtly tanned arms. He checks himself over again. _Not half bad for a sleepless night_ , he thinks.

Raising his wrist to view the time on his silver watch, he quite nearly jumps out of his skin. He should have left ten minutes ago.

———

The bouncer is standing in the same place he was last night, muscular arms crossed as he waits for the final members to filter in. Simon is the last, and as he approaches, he sees a few people ahead of him who are let in without hesitation.

“Good evening, welcome back to _Arcadia_ ,” he greets warmly as Simon searches his pockets for his card.

When Simon holds it out to him with a smile, the bouncer takes it, giving it a brief glance before handing it back to him.

“We have a table reserved for you tonight, Mister Le Bon.”

Simon looks at him, inquisitive. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, there’s a man inside by the name of John who will escort you.” He smiles, opening the door and gesturing inside. “Have a fantastic night.”

Floored, he nods. “Thank you, uh—”

“You can call me Roger.”

“Roger. Thank you.”

Roger nods, stunning grin to send him on his way. “It’s my pleasure.”

Simon passes through the door and John is waiting for him, as promised. Their eyes meet, John looking pleased to see him. They both know what this is about, though it goes unspoken between them.

“Hello, Simon.”

“Hello yourself, John.”

“If you would follow me,” John starts, “you’ll find you have the best seat in the house tonight.”

Simon laughs, the music drowning their voices out as they walk further inside. “Is that so?” he asks, leaning closer.

“Of course,” John assures.

They make their way closer to the stage, to the front and center table. Simon’s eyes widen as he realizes he’ll be even closer to the action. Questions start to arise. John stops at the table and pats the satin with a large hand.

“Who... who am I meant to thank for this?” Simon asks. It’s been the sweetest surprise and he really must know, though he has an idea.

John pulls out a chair and grins, devilish. He can’t exactly hide the truth from him, not when it’s so obvious. “You can thank a lovely little dancer by the name of Nick Rhodes.”

 _Nick Rhodes_. Simon wants to say his name, wants to taste it on his own tongue. It’s simple yet glamorous. It’s perfect. _He’s_ perfect.

Simon sits down and looks up, the stage dark. The house lights reflect on the pole before him. The center pole. He doesn’t know what to say.

John leans down, hands on the back of his chair. “He’ll be front and center tonight. Just for you,” he whispers.

Simon’s mouth goes dry. This is all too much to process, his mind running wild. “When can I meet him?” he dares to inquire.

“Tonight, if you would like. I’ll let Roger know so he can let you backstage after the show.”

“That would be great.” Simon’s heart is pounding. He tries to play it cool, to conceal his nerves. He wears his heart on his sleeve and always has.

John straightens up again. “Alright. I’ll be around all night, should you need me.”

He walks away. Simon is left with the trembling of his hands and a heartbeat that pounds in his ears.

He sits back in his seat and lets the music carry his worries away. The dark synths are paired with a tight drum beat, the instrumental just begging for some dreary, yet sensual lyrics. He wonders who created this music. Maybe Nick would know.

Simon can’t go a minute without thinking about him.

The tables around him start to fill up, the usual crowd taking their seats. He feels strange, sitting alone. He looks around distractedly and notices something.

There’s not one, but _two_ roses in the glass vase at the center of his table. Every other table he can see has just one singular rose. He eyes them for a moment, pondering.

But his thoughts are cut short when the house lights darken and the stage brightens up. Red light beams down, flickers of white flashing every now and then. The song changes and his heart drops. He knows what’s coming next. Or, more accurately, _who’s_ coming next.

The girls come out first this time, the center pole neglected for a few long moments. Simon is practically on the edge of his seat, waiting for the only person he came to see tonight. He’s the reason why he returned so soon, the reason why he didn’t sleep last night too.

He tries not to make it too evident. Simon takes a deep breath and stares straight ahead.

Nick emerges from between the curtains at the back of the stage, pushing the black aside. He’s wearing what appears to be a blue trench coat. The girls meet him the middle and each take a side of the coat, helping him out of it with quick fingers.

Both the hypnotic music coming from the club’s speakers and Nick’s body have him in a trance. He makes his way to the pole and starts to sway gently, every movement setting Simon’s skin on fire.

He’s in heels again. Sheer stockings cover his smooth legs, tight black lingerie extenuating his feminine figure. A woven gap near his hip shows off a bit of skin. His shoulders are on show, strong collarbones on display under the flashing lights. Simon’s eyes fall upon a beauty mark as white light hits him. A pair of elbow length gloves complete the outfit; he’s drop dead gorgeous.

Their eyes meet. There’s a shift in the mood between them, reeking of desperation, of yearning. Nick continues his sway, curves of his body prominent with his shimmy. He leans back, one leg wrapped around the pole. The drums kick in and he whips back up again, movements almost unpredictable.

The driving bass grooves, locked with the drums. Nick’s pink lips are pouting, focused on his dancing. But Simon doesn’t miss his gaze every time he rounds the pole, almost close enough to reach out and touch him. _Almost_.

His thoughts are anything but clean. Nick wraps his thighs around the pole and climbs. Simon has ceased to breathe as he is bathed in red light, extending his back and bringing himself back up without a struggle. He looks his way when his heels meet the floor again, smoky eyes connecting with his.

Nick winks, then runs a gloved hand up his thigh. Simon smiles on instinct, but he’s uncomfortable in his seat. He’d much rather be in bed with him, his own hands running over that lingerie. He wouldn’t mind taking it off, either. Piece by piece, starting with those gloves, he’d work his way down lower.

He needs him. He needs him so bad it hurts. The song plays on, Nick throwing his head back, getting really into the beat. Simon gets a good look at his ass as he bends down. He feels his trousers tighten significantly.

If John walked over right now, he might tell the two of them to get a room. But he doesn’t interfere. Everything is falling into place, and he wants nothing more than to see his best friend happy.

———

“So you think they’ll click?” Roger asks, glass of water in hand. John watches his mouth as he brings it to his lips.

John nods, leaning on the bar. “Oh yeah, definitely. I’ve never seen him this happy and they haven’t even met yet.”

Roger chuckles. He looks at John, studying his face for a brief moment. “Woah. Things are moving fast then, better not call him tonight.”

“You think they’ll go home together?” John looks out to the floor, then to the stage. Nick is still rocking it out front, working the pole as if he was born to do just that.

“It’s been a while, from what I understand. I think he’s eager.”

“Aren’t we all?” John sips his Pepsi and does his best to hide his flushed cheeks.

Roger nudges him with his elbow. “So, uh, you got your eyes on anyone?” he asks, cool and casual.

John would love to disappear right now. Maybe he could crawl underneath one of the tables, hide under the black satin for the rest of the night. Sounds rather enticing.

“Sort of. It’s nothing serious.”

Roger doesn’t press any further, to his relief. “Me too,” is all he says.

The conversation ends there, but in John’s head, it continues. He reverts his train of thought to Nick and his love life, so he doesn’t have to ponder his own.

If only he knew. If only he could read his mind.

———

Nick comes off the stage with a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He doesn’t know how he did it, but he did and it worked. He could tell how riled up it got Simon; he’s reeling from all the attention.

He makes his way to his dressing room, blue trench coat wrapped around his slender frame. He’s expecting John and Roger to come barreling in any minute, as they do every other night. Though it remains quiet, even out in the hall, so he locks the door and shrugs off the coat.

Walking over to the mirror, Nick pulls the gloves from his arms, skin clammy underneath them. He’s a little sweaty, a little tired, too. His makeup has stayed intact all evening, even his lipstick. He checks his teeth for pink smudges, finding none.

He quickly gets changed, slipping out of the lingerie. Black trousers replace the stockings, covering his skin, and he’s halfway through buttoning his shirt when there’s a knock on the door. Sighing, Nick paces to the door, unlocking it and pulling it back. He’s met with John, and standing next to him, is Simon.

 _Simon_.

It’s like he forgot how to breathe.

“Nick, Simon. Simon, Nick.” John is smirking, looking back and forth between the two of them. “I’ll leave you guys to it. You know where to find me, Nick!”

Blushing madly, Nick opens the door further. He finds it oddly comforting that Simon is red in the face too. “Hi,” he greets, breathlessly.

Simon’s smile is even brighter up close. “Hey.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Nick moves to let him through. “Not at all.”


	5. Chapter 5

Nick shuts his dressing room door behind him, nerves causing him to tremble. Simon stands before him, eyes as blue as ocean tides. He’s beautiful. Nick doesn’t realize he’s staring, dark eyes wandering over him, pupils dilating more with every blink.

Simon is staring too. His eyes rake down from his face to the sliver of exposed skin, pretty patterned blouse still not fully buttoned. They move back up to his face again, blushing madly still.

“It’s... it’s crazy, isn’t it?” Nick asks him, bringing his hands up to fix himself. But it’s not like Simon hasn’t already seen him scantily clad, half naked and dancing under the sleazy stage lighting.

“What’s crazy?”

Nick paces closer until they’re face to face. Simon has a quite a few inches on him though, just how he likes it. Tall, dark, and exceptionally handsome: he’s everything he dreams of.

“I’m just a bloody stripper, Simon. That’s the only thing anyone ever sees me as. They see my body, the makeup, the clothes. They want me, they have me. Then it’s over.” Nick looks down, a strange emotion taking over. “Guess it’s hard to see past all of it, to take me as anything more.”

Simon can feel his mood shift and it worries him. “You’re more than that, Nick. You’re somebody underneath it all. You’re a collection of experiences, thoughts.” A pause. “Feelings.”

Nick wants to believe him. Perhaps he can. His pink lips form a small smile. “You really think so?”

“I don’t think, I know.” Simon refrains from touching him, giving him the reigns. “And... I’d like to get to know you. The you underneath it all.”

“You’re a beautiful person, Simon.” They are chest to chest now, Nick melting into him on contact. He reaches out and lets his hands move down Simon’s chest, almost able to feel the rapid pounding of his heart. “I’d like to get to know you, too.”

The nervousness starts to fade, trembling hands steadying as they run along each other’s body. Simon pulls Nick closer, big hands settling on his hips. There’s a sense of comfort in their touching, something much more than simple attraction. Whatever it is, it goes beneath the surface, running deep within them. It begs to be nourished.

Their mouths inch closer, so close, but hesitate to join. They breathe each other in for a long moment. There’s understanding in their eyes, mixed with a poignant desire that cannot be ignored. Even without words, they both know how far they’re willing to go. The tension between them has built to a seductive crescendo.

Nick opens his mouth, words tumbling out. “I want you.”

It seems so simple, but there’s a certain complexity woven in their movements. Unknown worlds lie beneath their fingertips. There is something wonderful to discover within each other. As people, they are deep caverns to explore, full of sparkling jewels, the finest crystals the earth has to offer. They want to dive in and never look back.

“You’ve got me.” Simon tilts his head, Nick’s eyes slipping closed.

The kiss begins with slow tenderness, the two of them testing the waters. After a few seconds, Nick realizes he needs more from him tonight, much more. He deepens it, hands cupping Simon’s face to bring him closer. He responds aptly. Their mouths mold together, moving in perfect synchronicity.

Simon tastes his lipstick on his tongue, chalky flavor pleasant somehow. Nick moans low, small at the back of his throat. Their lover’s frenzy is interrupted by their need to breathe. They pull away, chests heaving, woozy and still wanting more. Always wanting more.

Nick laughs, the sound heavenly. “You’re wearing my lipstick now,” he utters breathlessly.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” Simon backs him into the sofa, the backs of his knees hitting it. “It’s a pretty color.”

“Looks quite nice on you, I must say.” Nick sinks down and brings Simon with him.

The two of them fumble until Nick is pinned beneath him. They hardly fit together like this, but that makes it all the more fun. They giggle, enjoying each passing moment more and more.

“It looks better on you,” Simon tells him. With that, he attacks his lips again. Nick grabs his jacket lapels and lets him taste the inside of his mouth, their tongues caressing one another.

Nick knows if they keep this up, he won’t be able to stop. They continue for a little longer, for as long as their lungs will allow. Nick emits a surprised gasp when he feels Simon grind down on him for the first time. Arousal floods his senses one by one.

When they finally part, it’s very evident where things are going from here. All the way, no looking back.

“I wanna take you home,” Nick admits, head back on the sofa cushion. His once perfect lipstick is ruined, smudged all over his mouth. He has never cared less. “If that’s alright with you, of course,” he adds.

“Please,” Simon replies, desperation in his voice. “I would love that.”

Nick feels a rush of heat, starting in his stomach and moving down lower. Simon climbs off him and he sits up. They look at each other and smile uncontrollably. 

Simon reaches out and fixes his hair, a gentle touch. “Sorry for making you look like a hot mess.”

“I’ve looked worse, believe it or not.”

_You’d still be beautiful in my eyes._ Simon saves that one for later, it might be too much. He laughs softly instead, rising from the leather sofa and extending a hand out to Nick. He takes it happily and they’re face to face again.

It’s difficult to keep their lips from meeting again. They seem to gravitate towards each other, so natural. Simon reaches out to fix his lipstick, wiping his thumb over the pink stains near his mouth. Nick leans into his touch, wallowing in the precious intimacy between them.

“Thank you,” Nick says, for multiple reasons. The heat returns again, another burst of warmth, and it tells him they need to go. “Let’s go.”

After wiping his own mouth with the back of his hand, Simon nods. He seems to understand too.

This is only the start, but it feels like it’s been forever.

———

The night is dark, almost moonless, and a bit chilly. A quiet bus ride brings them to Nick’s block in no time. Fumbling with his key, Nick unlocks the door to his apartment. They walk into the warmth together, anticipation thrumming within their bodies, a needy kind of hum.

It’s an electric feeling. Nick throws his stuff down by the door. He takes Simon by the hand and leads him to his bedroom.

The room is dark, very little light making it in through the windows. A faint glow is cast from a street lamp on the other side of the street below. Nick moves to brighten up the space; a lamp on his nightstand coming to life. They can see each other’s faces now, eyes adjusting quickly.

Simon closes in again, clutching his waist and kissing the life out of him. Nick succumbs in an instant, letting him lay his body down gently on his made bed.

He clutches back, drawing Simon’s body closer. He slots between his legs after he opens them, both growing harder as the friction offers them little glimmers of pleasure. They kiss with wild fervent, messy yet dripping with passion.

Simon pulls away and presses his lips along his neck. He smells faintly like the club, of roses and alcohol. He whimpers when his tongue darts out, licking a patch of skin just below his ear, hot breath fanning against it. Drinking him in, he rolls his hips, Nick driven mad by the contact.

“Keep touching me,” Nick mutters, voice not above a whisper. “Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Simon complies, accommodating their mutual needs. Another roll of his hips pins Nick down further into the mattress. His hands fly to his blouse. It’s very pretty and he’d hate to ruin it, so he takes his time with the buttons. Nick’s chest rises and falls rapidly, the weight of his hands on his chest just another thing adding to his arousal.

He stares up at Simon’s face, admiring the glow of warm light against his skin. After undoing the final button, Simon does the same. Nick’s face is a sight for sore eyes, his big doe eyes widened more as they stare. It’s not invasive in the least, despite tonight being their first real meeting. It’s intimate, exciting. They’re not strangers anymore.

Simon’s mouth meets his again, his lipstick a mere memory of hours prior. He pulls the shirt out from underneath him carefully, tossing it across the bed. He bites down on Nick’s lip before he pulls away. His eyes catch something small near Nick’s hipbone, sticking out by the hem of his trousers. A tattoo?

His fingers run over it. It’s a red rose, simple and elegant. It suits him well.

“You... I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” Simon glances back up at him again, fingers still playing upon his warm skin.

“It’s small, hard to see under red lights. I have another.” Nick turns his head and pushes his hair back, showing Simon.

He leans closer, and there it is. In small cursive lettering are the words _Save A Prayer_ , along his hairline and disappearing behind his ear. It could easily be missed if you’re not looking for it; his long dark locks cover it completely.

“ _Save a prayer_ ,” he reads. “What does it mean?” He continues to caress Nick’s skin, the urgency in his touch dying down a little for the moment.

It’s not that Nick doesn’t want to tell him. He does. But he doesn’t want the moment ruined by his past. He has already let that happen too many times before. “It’s a... long story. I’ll tell you in the morning.”

_Morning._ The fact that he’s implying there will be a morning shared between them makes Simon’s heart flutter in his chest. This union no longer feels so fragile, his own wants validated by Nick’s words. Morning, _the morning after._ This isn’t only a one night stand. It’s so much more than that.

“Okay.” Simon doesn’t press further. He’s afraid he has already killed the mood, but those worries soon fade once Nick pulls him back down again, lips reuniting in a heated kiss.

Nick works to unbutton Simon’s jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. A suck and a nip of Simon’s lips find them parting again, for the sake of moving things along. Simon pulls his shirt over his head and it joins Nick’s patterned blouse across the bed.

Growing bolder with his actions, Nick reaches out to palm him through his trousers. Simon groans at the touch, bucking into his hands.

Nick surprises him then. He sits up and pushes him over onto his back, smaller body straddling his thighs. Simon chuckles as he climbs up, black bangs falling in his eyes.

“Didn’t expect that, did you?”

“No, but I can’t complain.”

Nick smiles. Simon notices how his eyeshadow sparkles slightly in the lamplight. “Good. Is it okay if I ride you?”

Simon very nearly chokes on his own tongue. He knew where this was going, but he wasn’t prepared. He might never be. He could come just from that voice of his, talking him along. Nick is a dream. It doesn’t even register that he has gotten up, rummaging briefly in the drawer of his nightstand.

“Yeah,” he utters, a bit delayed. “Fuck, _please_.”

He returns with a condom and a bottle of lube. Simon sits up, more eager now than ever. Nick slides on top of the duvet beside him, Simon moving to help him out of the rest of his clothes.

It’s rude to stare, but he can’t help it. Every part of Nick is beautiful, which comes as no surprise. Simon’s eyes drift back up again to his face. He’s not shy; his lips curving in a smirk.

“You’re gorgeous,” Simon tells him. He means it, really means it.

Nick doesn’t say anything, he only leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. He then helps him finish undressing, deft hands quicker than Simon’s. Of course he’s good at taking clothes off.

Simon moves to pin him again, drawing a sigh from his lips. He grabs the lube and coats his fingers, making sure it’s warm before pressing them into Nick. He watches his face, long lashes fluttering. He realizes he’s never seen him without makeup.

“More,” Nick whispers.

Adding another finger so soon feels unnatural, but he wouldn’t deny Nick of anything. His head is a bit cloudy; he’d blindly follow any order of his, giving him anything he desires. Of course he’s not the first to be in this position, though there’s a little voice in his head, and it says that maybe he wouldn’t mind being the _only_ from here on out.

It starts feeling nice, pleasure coursing through Nick’s body. He stretches out and grinds down on his fingers; they’re long and skilled, working him open perfectly. But he would much rather have Simon’s thick cock inside him, filling him up, making him feel wanted.

“I’m ready. Need you, Simon.”

With that, he pulls his fingers out. Nick takes charge again, grabbing the condom and opening the wrapper with his teeth. He rolls the rubber down Simon’s weeping cock, then slicks him up generously with the lube.

Simon lets himself be pushed back, gripping Nick’s hips as he starts to sink. His hands steady himself on his chest. The stretch is familiar, though he might just be the biggest he’s ever had. He feels so full when he’s in to the hilt; it’s almost overwhelming.

“You feel good, really good.” Simon’s fingers press on the tattoo; he wonders what the significance of that little rose is.

Nick’s jaw goes slack. He could come right now, his attraction to Simon so strong. “You’re fucking... huge.”

Simon isn’t shy either. “Take your time, baby.”

_Baby._ Nick hates the pet name coming from anyone else’s mouth, but from Simon, it feels different. He can’t begin to comprehend why. He wishes he would say it again, so he could savor it.

He starts to move, Simon helping him. It’s been so long since he’s been treated this well in bed; his typical nights with other men quick and sloppy, never ever gentle. Somehow, he knew Simon would be different, and he was right. He throws his head back, the purest ecstasy washing over him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Simon praises. “ _Nick_.”

Hearing him moan his name almost sends Nick straight over the edge. He works his cock long and slow, relishing in this moment. Simon bucks up to meet him. The filthy sound of their skin slapping probably can be heard through the walls, but Nick doesn’t have it in him to care right now.

“Flip me, Simon.” Nick feels comfortable enough to let him drill into him, pinning him to the bed. “Please.”

Simon doesn’t hesitate. He sits up and and turns, Nick landing on his back with his cock still buried inside him. “Close,” he says, thrusting deeper.

“Me too.” Nick feels him hit his prostate dead on with every thrust. They’re rocking his entire bed in the process.

Simon leans forward and starts to kiss him again, their lips clumsily moving against each other’s as they reach their orgasm. Nick comes first, in spurts all over his and Simon’s chest. Another steady thrust and he follows after, emptying his load into the condom with a moan against Nick’s mouth.

He rests his forehead against Nick’s, coming down from his high. His skin is tingling and a sheen of sweat is forming. Nick nuzzles against his cheek and he can feel his smile. It makes him smile too.

Nick feels Simon pull out slowly, careful not to hurt him. This is usually the point in the night when he’s left alone, in his rumpled sheets with the smell of sex still lingering.

This time is different. Simon pads off to the master bathroom, coming back with a towel in hand. He cleans him off, gentle hands wiping him down. He looks up at him, makeup still intact somehow, and he realizes just how quickly he could fall in love with this man.

“Sorry about what I said earlier, I shouldn’t have worded it that way. You don’t have to stay. I won’t try to stop you from leaving.”

Simon quirks a brow at him. “I wasn’t planning on leaving, Nick. I... want to stay.”

Nick’s heart flutters, full of hope again. “Oh, okay. I want you to stay with me.”

“Of course.” Simon looks at him sadly, something somber in Nick’s tone concerning him. He hopes he can discover why he’s saying some of the things he’s saying.

“Good. I need a shower, get all this makeup off.”

Nick goes to slide out of bed, but Simon stops him. He scoops him up instead, lightly muscled arms picking him up with ease. “Ah— _Simon!_ ” he giggles. He doesn’t protest.

“What? Thought you might enjoy some company.” Simon is beaming, Nick’s face against his shoulder. “If it’s alright with you.”

“It’s quite alright, yes.”

Simon lowers him down once they reach his bathroom. Carrying him was rather unnecessary, though Nick appreciates the gesture. He feels close to him, wanted, almost... loved. He wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the night in Simon’s arms.

He doesn’t mind that this is moving so fast. He doesn’t mind that Simon helps him scrub off his makeup, the black bleeding away and leaving his natural face behind. He doesn’t mind the tender kisses Simon leaves along his shoulders and neck as he shampoos his hair.

Nick could get used to this, having Simon around.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the plot thickens. i’d like to thank Tash for helping me flesh this fic out, you’re the best! get ready for something more in depth than my usual fics! 💕

Warm morning light pours in through the windows in Nick’s bedroom. The morning after is upon them. Simon’s eyes flutter open, taking in the strange new place, bathed in sun. It takes him a moment to remember where he is, why he’s here. He looks down. His arms are wrapped around a warm body; Nick is sleeping soundly against his chest.

He figured he wasn’t the type to be an early riser, so he takes this time to admire him in his moment of tranquility. This is all so new, all so exciting.

Nick looks quite angelic in the light, black hair clean and free of teasing. There’s still faint remnants of mascara and eyeliner near his eyes from last night. Memories of those thrilling hours are at the forefront of Simon’s mind. They make him smile as he recalls them in little flashes, each rush and wild heartbeat caused by the man in his arms.

Who would have known he’d get this lucky? He certainly didn’t plan for it when he bought a membership to the club, for a dancer to steal his heart like Nick has. He has _Arcadia_ to thank: an erotic, gothic paradise.

Simon tries not to wake Nick as he slides out from the covers to use the bathroom. Upon his return, he still hasn’t moved from where he’s resting, but his eyes are open. Green meets blue in the light of day for the first time. Wordlessly, Simon returns to the warm bed and takes him back into his arms. Nick snuggles into him again right away.

Thinking Nick has already fallen back asleep, Simon is surprised when he feels him reach out and wrap his arms around his torso. In turn, he brings a hand up and cards it through his dark hair, gentle with the dyed locks. Nick opens his eyes again and looks up at him, soft expression conveying all the words he’s not awake enough to say.

“Good morning, darling,” Simon greets, voice rough from sleep.

Another pet name. Nick feels a strange shift in him, something changing. It’s a positive kind of change, brightening a dark part of him that he buries away.

“Good morning,” he repeats. _Why are you so good to me when we’ve just met?_ he wants to ask, but renders it inappropriate for the moment. Maybe later, if there is a later. “How did you sleep?” he asks instead.

“Fantastic. Best I have in a while.” _Because of you,_ he doesn’t voice.

Nick sighs happily. “Me too,” he says.

Simon knows there’s a conversation they need to have. He has a pretty good idea of where it will go, considering how well their night went, but sex isn’t everything. It’s easy to lose sight of that when a gorgeous dancer is riding him for all he’s worth.

Nick shifts in his arms, moving to prop himself up. He leans down so they’re face to face. Their noses brush before Simon pushes up, lips slotting together and moving lazily. He lets Nick climb on top of him, only their underwear separating them. He already feels the heat of arousal making its way down.

It doesn’t take much with Nick.

Nick pulls away after a few moments, beams of sunlight threading through his hair. _So angelic._ Simon is still holding his breath.

“We can talk over breakfast.” Nick watches his hands caress his thighs, those hands so gentle with him. “Unless you have work, _fuck,_ I didn’t even ask you what—”

“It’s alright, I’m a writer. Freelance, mostly.” Simon moves a hand up and runs his thumb over his red rose tattoo, still fixated on it.

Relieved that he doesn’t have to go so soon, Nick slides off him. “Okay, good. I like having you here.” He leans in for one more kiss, Simon eager to capture those lips again.

“And I like being here. With you.”

“Ah, stop, I’ll start blushing.”

“I like it when you blush, though.”

Nick climbs out of bed, cheeks tinted pink. “I’ll get dressed awhile, you should too. Then breakfast.”

Simon curls up, bringing the sheets up to his chin as Nick walks over to his closet. He watches him slip on a silky black shirt, buttoning it with quick fingers. He could watch him all day, even doing the simplest of tasks.

“It’s weird to see you put clothes on, you’re usually taking them off,” Simon quips, causing Nick to turn around.

That earns him a wink and a smirk. “Or you’re taking them off.”

It’s Simon’s turn to blush. He groans; Nick drives him crazy and he loves every second of it.

———

Conversation flows easy between them, learning bits and pieces about each other’s lives. They are both like complicated puzzles, with thousands of pieces scattered about the floor. But each piece leads to further understanding, forming a picture of the other before their eyes. It’s a slow process, yet it’s one worth pursuing.

Simon is surprised to find Nick is a musician too, the synthesizers and equipment all around his apartment evidence of such. He discovers he composes the music he dances to, the dark and sultry sounds that give _Arcadia_ that magic feeling. Simon speaks of his longtime love of poetry and the written word. Nick seems intrigued, tapping his finger on his cheek, in thought. Music and poetry go hand in hand.

He could write about Nick all day—lyrics, poems, paragraphs. Maybe he could finally fill all those empty journals he has sitting around in his apartment. Maybe he’d run out of ink just trying to describe his eyes. Maybe he’d finally finish a song so he could have something to sing to him. Maybe...

He tells Nick he enjoys sailing, Nick laughs and tells him he hates water; it’s a small difference they’ll have to work around. They have so much else in common that it doesn’t seem to matter in the grand scheme of things.

They get onto the topic of tattoos. Simon doesn’t have any, not yet at least, but he is reminded of Nick’s and their hidden meanings. He longs to know; Nick is not the type of person to do anything just for the sake of doing it. He is clearly meticulous, deep reasoning guiding him through his life.

“So,” Simon starts, “why the rose? Something to do with _Arcadia_?”

Nick watches him bring his coffee to his lips. He brings a lit cigarette to his own. “Not really. It’s a matching tat, John has one too, on his collarbone. Just so happens to fit with the job,” he chuckles.

“Oh.” Simon didn’t expect that, though it makes sense.

“We’ve been close for a long time. He’s like a brother to me.” Nick pushes his hair away from the other tattoo, the letters just visible from where Simon is sitting.

He eyes the word _Save_ , how the rest disappears behind his ear, like a whispered secret. He’s waiting for him to spill it. Nick can almost feel the weight of his glance. He takes a long drag and breathes out, smoke fanning out into the air around them.

“Save a prayer is my promise to myself to live for now. To put all else aside and let myself live in the moment.” Nick recalls the pain the tattoo brought, but like all other pain, it subsided. “It’s easy to get caught up in petty things when life moves so fast. So I make it a point to move on, let it all go.”

The coffee loses his interest. Simon presses his lips in a line, letting his words digest in his mind. “What do you do when you find something worth holding onto?” he finds himself asking, struck by his profoundness.

There’s something equal parts sad and cheerful in Nick’s expression. He’s a concoction of feelings, something new and interesting. Someone, more accurately.

“Well, Simon,” he begins, voice sweet. “It’s rare, but when I do... I don’t let go. I hold on and I fight for it.”

Simon grins, looking down. He reckons he would fight for Nick, if he ever needed to. He wouldn’t be easy let go of. Perhaps things are moving at the right speed, the two of them sinking together in the moment. Perhaps it’s the right moment, the one worth holding onto.

———

_Crushes are for teenagers and kids, right? Not grown ass men with responsibilities and plenty of other things to worry about?_ John asks himself, all while Roger won’t leave his head.

He’s been mulling over that conversation they had last night, the words playing over and over like a mantra. _What could he have meant by that? And why on earth does it bother me so much?_

No one else knows about these feelings; they’re too new to speak of. He hasn’t even told Nick yet. He could use his support and advice right now. He always knows what to say, and he’s talked him out of quite a few poor decisions before he’s made them.

John thinks of picking up the phone, but it’s early still. Nick is never up this early, and if he is, he has to have a damn good reason to be. He saw him leave with Simon as he was getting ready to leave himself, he was hanging on his arm. He hopes things work out for them. Nick deserves it after everything he’s been through the past couple months.

He decides to call anyway. He figures he’ll just leave him a message for later if he doesn’t pick up. Dialing the number he knows by heart, the dial tones ring in his ears, one after the other. No luck.

_You’ve reached Nick Bates. Please leave a message!_

“Hey, Nick. Gimme a call when you get the chance. It’s kind of important. Love you.”

He hangs up the phone and thinks of Roger again, that beautiful smile haunting him. Going for a smoke outside only makes the thoughts stronger, a picture perfect memory of that gleam in his eyes whenever he closes his own. He knows there’s no way out of this one.

Stubbing out the cigarette with the heel of his boot, he sighs, then he smiles. Nick would tell him to accept it. Nick would tell him to go after what he wants, chase any dream even if for a mere night.

He’ll chase the dream.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic will be full of surprises, as you can see!

“What’s going on, Nigel?”

The use of his birth name soothes him in his current crisis. Nick circles the back of his sofa, John sitting with his head in his hands. They should be leaving for work soon, but John insists there’s something he needs to say.

Nick leans in, placing a hand on his shoulder. It’s rare to see him so strung out like this. “It can’t be that bad,” he says. He tenderly brushes his hair out of his face, his mullet growing long. “Look at me.”

He uncovers his face and stands up, on the verge of tears. Nick is starting to get more worried.

“Just tell me, let it out.”

John sighs, finding it difficult to meet Nick’s eyes. “I have a thing for Roger. There, happy now?”

Nick’s expression softens. He never expected that from him, though now that he’s said it, it makes perfect sense. He has been acting different around Roger lately; a little nervous, self conscious even.

“ _Aww_ ,” Nick utters with a growing smile. He rounds the sofa and inches toward John. “That’s adorable.”

“It’s not adorable, it’s embarrassing. I bet he doesn’t even like guys.”

Nick puts a hand on his arm, urging him to sit back down. He sits next to him, getting ready for a long talk. Work can wait. If they end up late, Andy will just have to get over it.

“Does he know that _you_ do?”

John shakes his head. “I doubt it. I’m too scared to say anything.”

“You mean to tell me it has never come up in conversation?”

“No, never.”

Nick takes a good look at him. His under eyes are dark and his face is unshaven. His hair could benefit from a wash as well. “Well, good to know you’re both absolutely hopeless.”

John rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Nick. That’s just what I needed to hear.”

“It’s a good thing. You’re both on the same level.” Nick gazes at his watch. They still have some time. “So, how do you want him?”

“How do I want him?”

“Sexually, romantically, _both_...”

John turns pink. “Oh. Uh, both. Just him in general.”

Nick has an idea.

“That’s your thinking face. Oh god, why are you looking at me like that?” John nudges Nick, earning a narrowed gaze from his best friend. “You tell him and I’ll never speak to you again.”

Nick stands and grabs his hand, pulling him up. “Would you calm down? I’m helping you.”

John lets him drag him to his bathroom. He flicks on the light and leaves him standing in front of the mirror. John looks himself over for a moment, confused as he hears Nick turn on the shower.

“Nick, what the hell are you doing? We have to leave soon.”

Nick shushes him, a hand on his forearm now, guiding him towards the shower. “Don’t worry about it. I want you to wash your hair. Like actually wash it.”

“You’re insulting me, you know.”

“I’m _helping_ you. There’s a difference.” Nick gestures to the running water. “It’ll take two minutes. Use my shampoo, it’s good.”

John caves, starting by shrugging off his black jacket. “And how does this have anything to do with Roger? Enlighten me?”

Nick starts to rummage through his makeup, turning away as John undresses. “You need to make an effort before you make a move.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Now under the hot spray, John runs his fingers through his hair. He hates that Nick is right; he’s been a bit of a wreck when it comes to his appearance lately. He blames his low mood and these feelings that have been tearing him up for a couple weeks now.

“So, I forgot to ask. You and Simon last night, how did that go?” John asks from behind the steamed up glass wall.

Grinning at the memory, Nick wants to gush endlessly about him. About everything. “It went really well. He’s coming tonight, too.”

John lathers his hair up with Nick’s shampoo, luxurious and probably expensive. “Should’ve guessed that you two would fuck. He’s quite lucky, _coming_ two nights in a row.”

Nick’s jaw drops. His hand is clutching a pale face powder; it should match John’s complexion too. He looks to the shower. “Nigel!” he exclaims. “Don’t make come in there...”

“Am I next? Is that why you’re making me wash my hair?”

Nick’s laughing so hard his eyes are squinting. “No thank you. I think he’ll be sticking around. He left a little less than an hour before you showed up.”

“So that’s why it sounded like you had a mouthful of cock over the phone, because you did.”

“I told you I was _eating!_ ”

“Right...”

“Just shut your big mouth and wash your damn hair.”

John chuckles, rinsing his long brown locks. He honestly can’t remember the last time he washed his hair like this. Dry shampoo has been his best friend.

He shuts the water off and grabs the towel thrown over the door. He runs it through his hair then wraps it around his hips, stepping out to see Nick with an excess of makeup products spread on the counter. He’s smirking and holding a razor.

Nick hands it to him. He takes a hand and wipes the steam off a section of the mirror. “Shave,” he orders. He picks up his hairdryer, plugging it in. “I’ll dry your hair.”

“I feel like you’ve been planning this, waiting for your chance to give me a makeover.”

He’s not wrong. “Maybe,” Nick replies, turning on the hairdryer.

Brush in one hand, he reaches up and starts work on his hair. His arms start to ache after a few minutes; their drastic height difference not suitable for this at all. As John shaves his face, he clears some of the makeup off the counter, earning a side-eyed glance from him.

“What are you doing?” he asks as Nick climbs onto the counter, sitting on the edge near the sink. “Oh,” he realizes. “You’re too short!”

“You’re too tall,” Nick quips. “Stop looking at me and focus!”

John complies, and soon enough, he is freshly shaved. He sets the razor down and bends to rinse his face clean.

“Alright, now turn so I can finish the other side.”

“How are you so good at this?”

Nick is deep in concentration, making sure John’s hair isn’t too flat. “Plenty of practice. Have you seen mine?”

“Don’t get cocky, now.”

“I’ll show you cocky.”

John is shaking with laughter as Nick finishes his hair. They’re going to be so damn late but at least he’ll look presentable for once.

He grabs a can of hairspray and circles his head with it, trying not to go overboard. “There. Now for the makeup.”

“Go easy on the eyeliner, please and thank you.”

“Don’t worry, no eyeliner for you today. ”

Nick grabs him so he slots between his legs. To anyone else, this would appear strange, but they’ve been close for so long that neither think anything of it. Dispensing a bit of concealer onto a finger, Nick places a hand on his cheek and applies it under his eyes.

“Roger’s gonna think I’m trying too hard.” John’s brown eyes bore into Nick’s, worries plaguing his mind. “Don’t you think?”

Nick shakes his head. “Roger is the type of person to never think anything bad about anybody. He’s too sweet.”

John’s face heats up just thinking about him. Nick finishes up working the concealer in and he already looks much better.

“Now you look more alive.” Nick reaches for the powder and a fluffy brush. He loads the brush and sweeps it across his face. “It’ll help if you close your eyes.”

His eyes slip shut. The brush drifts along his face, the feel of the soft bristles again his skin relaxing. He trusts Nick and maybe he’s right. He’s been lazy, running out the door for work after spending a better part of his day in bed.

Nick stops and he hears him put the lid back on the powder. He opens up his eyes and he sees a palette with varying hues of brown. Nick is holding a different brush and he dips it into one of the colors, swirling it around.

“What’s that for?”

“Your cheekbones. It’ll make them pop.” He drags the brush along each side of his face, blending the color into his skin. When he’s satisfied with his work, he draws back.

John moves to look at himself in the mirror behind Nick. “Damn, I look good!”

“I told you it wouldn’t take long. Now, get yourself dressed and we’ll head out.”

“Still, we’re so fucking late.”

Nick smirks, a plan already formulating. “I got it covered, don’t you worry.”

———

They land themselves in Andy’s office first thing, as Nick expected. He’s not worried though. His plan should go over well, taking recent events into consideration.

“John, I know you’re new. I’ll let this slide.” Andy reclines in his chair, which comically looks a bit big for him.

Nick wonders if his feet even touch the floor. He tries not to laugh.

“You can go start on the tables. The fresh roses are behind the bar.” Andy looks at him, a friendly smile on his face. “I’d like to have a chat with Nick, alone.”

John stands up and shoots Nick a glance. It conveys something along the lines of: _you need to tell me all about this later._ Nick nods shallowly. He definitely will.

When the door shuts, Andy looks to Nick. His trademark pink lips quirk upwards; there’s a certain kind of heat in that gaze of his. He braces himself for what’s coming next.

“John looks good. I’m guessing you had something to do with it?” Andy asks, the subject entirely different to what Nick expected it to be.

“Yeah, that’s why we were late. Kinda lost track of time.” Nick plays it cool, his dark eyes meeting Andy’s.

Andy nods in approval. “Alright. It can’t happen again, yeah? I need you here.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Nick surprises himself, going out on a limb. “If you’d like me to,” he adds, voice shifting to something more dulcet.

Andy clears his throat, suddenly looking hot under the collar. “What...” he trails off, in thought. “What are we talking, Nick?”

Nick stands up, placing his hands on his desk and leaning into his space. “I’ll give you your own private show.”

“A lap dance and I’ll call it even.”

“Deal.”

Andy looks pleased with himself. “Great. Go change into something nice, I’ll be waiting.”

———

Nick returns, record timing.

Andy’s head whips around when he hears his office door open. “Whoa, you’re fast.”

“Well, it _is_ my job.”

“Enough sass. Get your ass over here, Rhodes,” he tells him. “But first, pull that curtain over the window.”

Nick does as he says, the black fabric hiding their little favor. “Before we begin, here are my rules. You’re allowed to touch me, just no kissing and no penetration of any kind. I’m seeing someone.”

Andy nods, eyes glued to Nick. “No problem.”

Nick saunters up to his chair, short black leather skirt riding up. His sheer stockings show off his legs, soft black fabric clinging to his skin. He moves closer to Andy, lips brushing against the shell of his ear.

“You finish yourself off when I leave, is that clear?”

Andy swallows. “Perfectly clear.”

Nick backs away and smiles.

He turns and sits in Andy’s lap, facing away from his boss. He feels Andy’s hands come up and run along his thighs, toying with the edges of the skirt as he grinds down experimentally. He can feel his hard on through his trousers, growing more as he shifts around in his lap.

Nick grabs hold of the desk for leverage, finding a steady pace. Andy’s calloused hands run up his sides, where a fitted crop top leaves a silver of exposed skin. His hands are cold and he shivers as he touches him.

_John better appreciate this,_ he thinks to himself.

“You’re my favorite dancer, you know that?”

“I know,” Nick replies, glancing back. 

Andy lets a moan slip, clutching Nick’s hips. In response, he grinds harder, inching him towards his release.

“I should give you a raise,” Andy mutters, running a hand up his thigh and slipping it underneath his skirt. “You deserve it.”

Nick is a little turned on, but it’s nothing compared to being with Simon. He prefers his men much the opposite of Andy. He’s surely not his type.

“Fuck, stop. Gonna come.”

Nick eases off his lap, fixing his clothes before he walks towards the door. “Thank you, Andy. Glad we could settle this.”

Andy already has a hand down the front of his trousers. “No, thank _you_ , Nick.”

Nick opens the door and shuts it behind him quietly. He sneaks off to his dressing room. It’s almost time for him to get ready for tonight’s show.

He laughs to himself when he’s finally alone. Andy’s feet don’t touch the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m soft for RoJo, what’s new?

The night has just begun, the final members let in at the door. Roger lingers under the red lights by the bar for a few minutes. Immersed in the dark beauty of _Arcadia_ , he takes it all in.

The high ceiling is cast in darkness, all the life and action happening down below. Elegant lighting decorates the walls, crystalline chandeliers hang above the tables, sparkling proudly. There’s the scent of perfume in the air; floral notes stronger than anything. The low hum of voices fills the club, conversations kept private amongst the tables.

It’s not that busy tonight, so he picks a red velvet stool to sit on at the very edge of the bar. Looking straight ahead, the stage is dark, empty poles ready for their dancers. Redirecting his gaze to the floor, he watches John make his rounds. He is fixated, his face like a magnet. Roger is pulled in.

The crowd is full of beautiful people, men and women alike, cloaked in clothes just as beautiful. He’s not looking at any of them. He’s looking at the awkward, lovable waiter who he hasn’t been able to get off his mind since he was hired.

Something is different about him tonight, though Roger can’t seem to put his finger on it. His face, his hair, both? Whatever it is, it’s skin deep and beyond. He looks happy. He’s glowing underneath the house lights, smiling and emitting a whole new kind of energy.

He likes him a lot. It’s hard to hide it. He wishes he had enough nerve to tell him, ask him out maybe. Though he doesn’t even know if he’s into guys in the first place, which would help. He sighs.

Roger doesn’t realize he’s staring until he makes his way over to the bar, ready to fill the orders he just picked up. His eyes don’t leave his face as he gets closer.

“Oh, hey John. You look good. New haircut?”

John stops, standing on the other side of the bar. “Thanks,” he beams, looking down at the scribbles on his notepad. “Uh, no, actually. Nick did my hair.”

Roger finds it hard to look away from him. He really does look stunning. “He did a fantastic job then.”

“You know Nick, good at everything.” John looks like he’s about to walk away and get back to work, then second guesses himself. “Hey, wanna go out and have a smoke with me on my break?”

Trying not to look too eager, Roger nods. “Yeah... yeah, that would be great.”

John smiles and leaves, walking around the bar behind him. The exchange was so simple, so typical of them, but had a new flair to it. Roger never compliments his appearance. He’s much too shy.

Roger needs advice, preferably from a stripper with black hair teased to the heavens and enough eyeliner to put Siouxsie Sioux and Robert Smith to shame. Hoping John doesn’t see him, he gets up and takes off, heading straight for the back corridor, in search of one Nick Rhodes.

“Roger, not that I don’t love seeing your face, but what are you doing here?” Nick answers the door after his frantic knocking, half dressed in tonight’s skimpy outfit. It’s very pink; must be one of Andy’s spontaneous color nights.

“Let me in, before John sees me,” Roger whispers through the crack in the door. “I apologize in advance.”

Nick looks confused. He pulls on a strap of the velvet top he’s wearing and opens the door further to allow Roger in. He’s still in his underwear, but it’s not like Roger hasn’t already seen him like this.

“What’s going on? Why don’t you want John to see you?” Nick asks, searching the room for the rest of tonight’s outfit.

Roger stands in front of his vanity, his reflection staring back at him. He turns around, he can’t take it right now. “I like him, Nick. It’s getting more obvious every time I talk to him. I don’t know what to do!”

Pulling a pair of black velvet trousers on, with a slit up the side to the knee, Nick nearly stumbles to the floor. “Jesus, are you serious?”

“Yeah, what should I do? What if he finds out and hates me, oh _god_...”

Nick smoothes out his clothes quickly and meets Roger by the vanity. He grabs his arms and shakes him. “For fuck’s sake, he likes you back, Roger. He’s crazy about you.”

“Don’t lie to me like that, Nick. Not funny.”

Nick lets go of him. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you. He’s all worked up over you too, he hasn’t let me forget about it all day. Would you like to know why we were late?”

“Why?”

“I made him wash his damn hair for you! Shave, too. And I did his makeup. That’s why he looks less like a train wreck than usual.”

“Oh...” Roger’s wide eyes roam over Nick’s made up face. His lips are glittery tonight. “Shit, I don’t know what to do. He invited me out for a smoke break a few minutes ago.”

Nick grabs a pair of shiny pink platform shoes, sitting down to pull them on.  “There you go, tell him then. Just the two of you, a couple cigarettes, and the night air. Perfect.”

“I’m scared. What if I mess it up?”

“You won’t. If anything, he will. He’s all limbs and he’s awkward,” Nick laughs. “Oh, and please go out there and let Simon in. He should be here by now.”

Roger heads towards the door. “Will do, thanks Nick.”

“Go get your man, Rog!” Nick encourages, standing up and fluffing his dark hair. He doesn’t have much time until he’s on.

Blushing and grinning, Roger nods. “Won’t be that easy, but I’ll try.”

Nick is a few inches taller now, taller than him. Roger would be intimidated if he didn’t know him as well as he does.

“John is easier than you think. Now go, before I’m forced to push you two together myself.”

———

Before Roger knows it, he’s standing outside the front of the club with John next to him. Without words, he hands him a cigarette. With nervous hands, he takes it and puts it between his lips.

With one dangling from his own lips, John digs around in his pocket for his lighter. Roger leans up against the wall and tries hard to keep his cool. He has nothing to worry about if John already likes him, but he can’t seem to relax. This jittery feeling is so strong.

John retrieves his lighter after a moment. Roger holds his breath as he flicks it, a flame igniting between them. They both lean in, sharing a moment as the ends of their cigarettes glow, the first ignited embers falling to the pavement.

Pulling away is the hardest part. Roger wants to lean in, forget the cigs entirely and inhale the smoke from his mouth instead. It’s an enticing daydream. Or just a dream, considering the time. After what Nick told him earlier, it’s not so crazy, like dreams often are. John is within reach, all he has to do is gather enough nerve to reach out.

The red neon _Arcadia_ sign shines above their heads, casting an eerie shadow on their faces below. The outside air is cool, enough that it had John grabbing his leather jacket before they slipped out. Roger is quite overheated, if anything, black button down shirt and vest begging to be taken off. Maybe it’s from looking at John. It’s probably from looking at John.

His thoughts begin to wander down familiar territory, picturesque visions involving the man standing next to him. They come without much forethought, his mind heading down, down. The silence between them makes it worse. Unbearable.

They haven’t uttered a word to each other yet. Roger knows he needs to change that, and soon. He needs to hear his voice, shrouded by smoke, bathed underneath the dreamy light. He yearns for it to say his name, tongue dancing around the syllables and growing comfortable with them.

John beats him to it, softened, hesitant words floating upon an exhale of nicotine tainted smoke. “I’m realizing that we don’t know each other very well. And, I... I’d like to.”

“I would too,” Roger replies, taking in his side profile. He’s so attractive and it’s evident he doesn’t realize it. “Tell me something about yourself. Anything.”

“I play bass. Sometimes I help Nick out with the production of the _Arcadia_ tracks, though he’s so bossy when it comes to his music,” he chuckles, sounding breathless.

That strikes a vein within Roger. He’s into music, too. He runs a palm down his vest and pockets his hand, excitement coursing through his body. “I’m a drummer. Maybe we could jam sometime, if you’re up for it.”

John turns, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifts through Roger’s own cloud. “Yeah, that would great.”

Silence falls again. It’s almost deafening. Cars and taxis go by every now and then, city traffic passing through even during the later hours. The headlights reflect in John’s eyes, the glow brightening up his chocolate brown irises.

Roger is mesmerized, so much that his cigarette slips from between his fingers and greets the cold pavement at his feet. He hurriedly stomps it out and redirects his attention to John. He’s staring, lips parted. He’s also closer now than before. Much closer.

Roger reaches up and cups his cheek, the gentle touch innocent. He watches John’s eyes sparkle for a moment before leaning in. John does too, but miscalculates, their noses bumping together. His cigarette burns his finger and he curses, throwing it to the ground.

“ _Fuck,_ let’s try that again.” John is blushing so hard he thinks he’ll burst into flames. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, c’mere,” Roger speaks soft, and closes in again, determined to make this work.

Lips meeting, John melts against Roger, pulling him in by his tie. The first kiss is rather brief, though Roger dives back in again for more. John’s mere essence draws him in.

The taller of the two allows himself to be backed into the wall, mouth parting for Roger. He doesn’t know where to put his hands now that he is so close. His lungs are burning, little pinpricks in his chest telling him to breathe, but he would happily never inhale again if it meant he could kiss Roger forever.

When they finally do part, Roger’s lashes flutter open; the red glow on his face heavenly. He wants to take John by the hand and take him home, test their compatibility, both in bed and musically.

He won’t push him. He wants to take this easy, slow and steady. As much as he would love to jump into bed with him, he knows how wrong that would feel. He doesn’t want to take advantage of his feelings, or of him, either.

“It’s uh, getting cold. We should go in.” John half smiles, kissable lips on show, nightly shadows playing upon them.

Roger places a hand atop his hand, a tender caress. He squeezes it lightly before letting go, a small reassurance that this is only the beginning for them. Words cannot express the feeling that has overtaken him. His mind is a jumble; it doesn’t know right from left when John is involved.

“Let’s get back inside.”


	9. Chapter 9

When the dressing room door opens to reveal Nick, Simon’s knees get weak. Seeing him in color is something new. The pink compliments his skin tone, brighter colors and pale skin working perfectly together. He throws down the fashion magazine he was paging through and gives him his full attention.

“Andy’s letting me go early tonight,” Nick says as he makes his way to where Simon is sat. Instead of sitting next to him, like any regular person would, he opts for the empty space in his lap.

“Really?”

Nick nods. He sets a hand on Simon’s cheek, making his smile grow wider. “So we have extra time. I’d like to bring you home with me again, if you’d like that.”

Simon runs a hand up his thigh, nothing but velvet soft skin underneath his palm. “Well, I was thinking I’d bring you to mine.”

“That would work too.”

Eyeing his glittery lips, Simon is enraptured, leaning in. Nick starts off with a chaste locking of their lips, then tilts his head to deepen the kiss. They play with control, Simon gripping his thin waist and pulling him closer. Nick moves to straddle him, a knee on each side of him.

He fits like he was made for Simon, slots in place like a puzzle piece. It’s hard not to think they were meant to be when everything happened the way it did. Simon’s hands roam, taking a journey along his body, so much bare skin that he could have him naked in seconds.

His lips are sticky, probably from the glitter gloss. Nick draws away with a playful nip and starts kissing his neck, talented mouth applying pressure and sucking in all the right places.

Simon leans into him, letting him continue. His fingertips dance along his skin, keeping him as close as he possibly can. He feels so lucky to have him like this.

“Take me home.” His words sound like a plea. Nick’s lips stay near to him even when he stops kissing. “I’d like to get familiar with _your_ bed.”

“That can be arranged.” Simon turns his head. They’re cheek to cheek now, intimate and close.

He captures his mouth in another heated kiss, passion communicated through his movements. Nick moves with him, flowing freely as they further tangle together.

When they part, their noses brush, so close. They’re hardly strangers anymore, though there is still so much they don’t know of each other. But there is time, plenty of it.

Simon’s lips and neck are covered in glitter gloss. There’s no one else’s makeup he’d rather be covered in.

———

It’s been a long time since Nick woke up in a bed that wasn’t his own. He can’t even remember the last time he did. He hates being taken home by the men he sleeps with, he would much rather have more control and take them to his place.

Simon isn’t like those other men. He’s on a plane of his own. His warm personality draws Nick in time and time again; he can’t get enough of him. He doesn’t fall in love with the men he sleeps with, doesn’t ever intend to. They use him and they leave, never to be seen again. Falling in love would end in disaster for everyone involved.

He can’t imagine himself letting Simon go. If he wanted to leave, he’d let him go, of course, but not without some heartache. He’s already falling, so fast that it’s hard to comprehend it all. This never happens to him.

Opening his eyes, he finds that it’s still dark outside. There’s the patter of rain on the roof of Simon’s apartment building, coming down in buckets it seems. He wonders what time it is.

He stares at the ceiling. Simon is beside him, curled up, face smushed against the pillow they’re sharing. Soft snores escape his lips as he dreams.

Nick remembers drifting off, falling asleep in his arms. Post coital bliss brought them close together as they sunk into slumber. He has never felt more at home in any set of arms before. Things are moving lightning fast, yet it feels as though they have known each other for so much longer. It’s equal parts strange and beautiful.

They must have separated, moving unconsciously, because Nick is curled up on his own too. He turns to face Simon. He is immersed in the moment, saturated with feelings that swirl around in his brain. Bad thoughts and memories are temporarily chased away by the gentle sound of the rain and Simon’s breath. His lips quirk up. He doesn’t smile to himself very often.

He refrains from moving and listens to the rain for a while. Life slows to a near standstill. He could go back to sleep, though he finds he doesn’t want to. He wants to return to Simon’s warm embrace, experience the fall all over again. It’s hard not to crave the sensation now that he knows it.

Nick thinks of waking him up. He moves closer, shifting on the pillow. Now he can feel his comforting warmth radiating, trapped under the sheets draped over their mostly bare skin. It’s still not enough; he needs his touch more than anything.

Simon stirs and after a moment, he opens his eyes. When he discovers Nick’s eyes on him, he seems to wake a little more, blinking in subtle flashes of blue.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks, barely above a whisper, voice rough with sleep.

“No,” Nick drawls. Their faces are mere inches apart, up close and personal.

He feels his hands wrap around his slender frame, pressing just below his ribcage and pulling him in. He settles against his torso, contented more to be in his grasp again. Head meeting his chest, Nick rejoices in the gentle glide of his palms along his body. They move to his back and stay there.

Simon’s thumb brushes between his shoulder blades, the smallest caress meaning more than he can say. It means _so_ much.

“Sorry for waking you up.” Nick’s hands are balled up against his skin, as if to clutch material that isn’t there. “I wake up a lot during the night.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. Why is that?”

“I’m not sure. Always on high alert, I guess.”

Simon exhales slowly, Nick sinking against him further. “Maybe you’ve got too much on your mind.”

Nick reckons there’s a lot of truth in his words. “I think I do.”

He feels Simon pull him up, handling him with great care. He extends an arm out, guiding Nick so he is tucked into him further. His head now rests on his bicep, Simon’s chin against his flattened hair.

“We can talk about it if you want,” he utters. “I’m awake now.”

Nick unfurls a hand, fingertips tapping his collarbone. He thinks about it once more. He realizes that there’s a lot he still hasn’t told him. “Okay.”

Simon falls silent, giving him the space to speak. His warm embrace reassures Nick as he racks his brain for the words to say, the words that have been causing a silent disturbance.

“The last relationship I was in was... horrific. He told me before he left that he could fuck up my pretty face and I’d have nothing left.” Nick recalls those angry words, pushed far into the back of his mind. “He called me a slut regularly.”

He feels Simon shift, pressing his cheek against his hair. He keeps a hand on his back, caressing slowly as he talks.

“And he wasn’t the first piece of shit either. I never had any luck, I guess. I’ve been on my own for a long time. Scared to try anything again.”

“You don’t deserve that. No one does.” Simon’s tone shifts, wavering a bit. “I’m really sorry. Please tell me he never laid a hand on you.”

Nick breathes deeply. “No, he never did. None of them did, thankfully. It’s just one of those things that never goes away.”

“I understand.” Simon draws back to look at his face. There’s just enough light in the room to look in his eyes, the whites prominent. “I would never do that to you.”

“I know,” Nick says. “I’m not quick to be trusting, though I believe you’re winning me over.”

Simon beams. “You’re winning me over, too.”

Nick can feel a question on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t want to wait to see if Simon will ask first, he wants to ask now, while they’re having this discussion together. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did. But of course, go on.”

Nick rolls his eyes. He feels much better now. “Would you be my boyfriend?”

“Yes, a hundred times _yes_.” Simon seals the deal with a kiss, pressing their lips together sweetly.

The rain continues to pour outside, soaking the pavement. There’s still a couple hours until the sun will rise. Nick feels safe, in Simon’s bed, covered by his sheets and in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is officially my longest Duran fic. we’ve come a long way!

“Are you sure about this?”

“Positive. Now sing your lines, darling.”

A smirk plays on Simon’s lips. “Okay, _darling_. Have we reached that stage in our relationship already? Talking like an old married couple?”

Nick leans forward and presses his lips to his cheek sweetly. “Perhaps.”

Simon’s smirk grows. He looks to the microphone in front of him, then the tape recorder next to it. This is not what he had planned to be doing this afternoon but he’ll take it. It involves Nick, so of course he won’t complain.

His notebook is open before him, spilt down the middle to the lyrics he wrote on the first night he went to the club, the first night he saw Nick. It seems like a lifetime ago now, though it’s only been a week. So strange.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

_As I wandered down to where you lay,  
the blood rushed up to meet the roses  
in your hair  
I thought I saw you smile  
But now I don't see you anywhere_

He finished the rest of the song while Nick played it back for him earlier. The words came to him, pouring from his pen. He never had someone to work with like this, no musical partner and certainly no one close to Nick’s creative genius.

Listening to more of his work helps ease Simon inside his mind, lets him into his rich inner world. His adoration only grows as the tapes play on.

_Whispering your love song in my ear  
How can you touch me  
when you’re not really there?  
_

Nick sits down next to him. They’re in the corner of his living room where most of his equipment resides. His occupation isn’t evident until you get to his bedroom, where there’s a closet full of gorgeous clothes, shoes, accessories.

“Am I a distraction? Do you want me to go away?”

“No, not at all.”

“Alright, I’ll stay. Whenever you’re ready.”

Simon takes a breath and hits play on the track. The tape starts rolling. He hasn’t used his voice this way in a while, years probably. But this is just a demo, a fun project for the two of them to pass the time with.

If anything, Nick’s presence helps him. He relaxes and focuses on how the instrumental makes him feel, the emotions it stirs within him. So much has changed in a week’s time.

When the music fades away, he hits the stop button and looks over at Nick. His eyes are shining underneath a lock of untamed black hair. He’s simply gorgeous in his natural state; he’s glowing.

“So what’s it about?” Nick asks, earnest.

“I don’t know. It just came to me.”

“You’re a true poet. Give it a name, since I never give my tracks one.”

Simon thinks for a moment. It’s a haunting kind of song, it brings a longing that delves deep under his skin. “ _Missing_.”

Nick takes his pen and notebook and scrawls the title at the top of the page. Simon watches his hand. He’s delicate and small, yet his icy guise guards him. He shields his own vulnerability from the world, slow to trust, tucked deep within himself.

He’s warming to Simon at a rapid speed, the heat beneath his winter rising, his ice melting away. It’s a beautiful thing to witness. He realizes just how lucky he is to be sitting next to him in this moment.

Nick sets the notebook down and notices Simon’s gaze on him. He looks ready to lean in for a kiss.

Simon extends a hand and cups his cheek. He visibly relaxes against his fingertips, head tilting and pushing further into his touch. 

“How did you end up at _Arcadia_?” he asks him softly, not wanting to upset him.

“I needed a job, I applied. Andy liked me. The rest is history, I guess. I got comfortable there.”

“Have you ever thought of doing music? Dedicating yourself to it and seeing where it goes?”

Nick reaches up and removes his hand from his face. He clutches it instead, interlocking their fingers with a distant gaze. “I have, never knew where to start really.”

“You already have.” Simon gestures to the equipment around him. “You know what you’re doing, Nick. That’s clear.”

“You’re too kind, Simon.”

“I see your talent, that’s all. I’ll join you in this. I’d love to make music with you, if that would be okay.”

Nick beams. He tightens his grip and squeezes Simon’s hand. “That would make me really happy.”

———

“Nick, I’d like you to meet Warren and Dale, our newest dancers.”

Seems Andy went on a firing spree, since the two other dancers are nowhere to be seen. He didn’t like them very much anyway. He reaches out to shake their hands, eyeing their getups.

Dale is even smaller than him, which comes as a surprise. Her teased blonde hair has a life of its own, complete with a wild pink streak. She’s wearing a ridiculous amount of plastic: two black half moon shapes adorn her chest and tight, silvery vinyl covers her legs. It’s so outlandish that it looks good.

As for Warren, he looks as though he belongs in a band, wearing black on black leather. Some subtle chains are visible, reminiscent of the height of the good old days of punk. A bit of eyeliner is smudged underneath his eyes. Nick notes calluses on his fingers as he lets his hand go. A musician, of course.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, pastel lips upturned in a warm smile. “I’m sure you’ll both fit right in here.”

“By the looks of it, we will.” Dale eyes him, no judgement in her vibrant gaze. Bright pink eyeshadow dusts her lids.

Andy then moves closer to Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll find Nick is excellent at what he does. Isn’t that right?”

Nick flushes from the attention, cheeks warm under his perfect makeup. He’s not usually uncomfortable around new people, but Andy’s making this a bit weird for everyone involved. “I guess you could say that, yeah,” he laughs out sheepishly.

Warren scratches the back of his neck as Andy makes eyes at Nick. _Oh no._ They’re surely getting the wrong message here.

After a painful bout of silence, Andy backs away. Nick holds in a sigh of relief. The office feels much smaller now.

“He’ll be showing you the ropes tonight. Or the poles, I should say.” Andy laughs. “You’ll be set, he knows his stuff.”

Warren and Dale chuckle at his joke, though Nick isn’t having any of it. Andy likes to think he’s charming. Nick knows just how to melt him down; he’s too easy to mess with. It’s quite amusing.

“That I will,” Nick retorts. “Oh,” he interjects himself, reaching in the pocket of his silk jacket. He pulls out a cassette tape marked _new Arcadia demos #1_ in black ink. “Here’s something new I’ve been working on. Just some rough demos, but I think you’ll like it.”

Andy takes the cassette with a raised brow. “Interesting. Alright, I’ll have a listen.”

As Nick follows Warren and Dale out the door, he turns and winks before he shuts the door behind them. He just catches the look on his face and it’s priceless.

———

Nick learns this isn’t Dale’s first stripping gig, and it shows. She takes to the pole like a natural, climbing and hanging upside down, then pulling herself back up without using her hands. It’s impressive, to say the least.

Warren and Nick watch her lower herself back down to the stage floor again after a couple rotations. Her black heels click, steadying herself as she wipes down the pole.

“I’ve showed Warren a thing or two, he can work a pole.”

Warren shrugs off his jacket, then lifts his shirt over his head. He’s surely got the body for it, abs proudly on show. Nick tries not to stare; he’s quite attractive, but he’s not Simon.

“I’ve been to enough strip clubs in my days,” he adds, glancing at Nick. “Though Dale is much more seasoned than I am.”

“Oh, don’t you start, Warren.”

Nick is amused by their banter, they seem close. “Best friends?” he asks, looking between them.

“Something like that,” Warren replies as he makes his way to the center pole. “We’re in a band together with a couple of our friends from back home. You do music?”

“I write and produce everything played here, yes. Synthesizers and drum machines, with a bit of help from my best friend on bass.” Nick looks out to the floor, wondering if he’s in yet. “He works here too, you’ll get the chance to meet him soon. His boy toy, too.”

Dale lets out a high pitched giggle. “Boy toy, huh?”

“Don’t tell him I said that, it’s in its early stages,” Nick replies, still a bit unsure of their relationship himself.

“Fair enough,” she chuckles, hand carding through her hair.

Warren wraps himself around the pole, tight leather trousers clutching to his lithe frame. “We’ll have to bring you a tape, Nick. Think heavy drums, loud guitar, and synths.”

“Excellent.” Nick watches Warren, muscles flexing as he moves, stretching and extending his back.

He thinks of Simon, wondering if he could ever get his boyfriend on a pole. That thought has his mind wandering away. Now _that_ would be a dream come true: underneath flashing lights, his music blaring in the background, tall body circling, shedding clothes piece by piece.

Nick pushes the enticing fantasy away for now. He’ll return to it later, for sure.

Dale’s clapping brings him out of his head. Warren’s got himself upside down, just like she had. He grips the pole tightly, leather coated legs spreading in mid air.

“See, Warren? I told you you could do it!”

“Seems I don’t have much to show you two, then.”

Warren lowers himself down, shifting so his legs support him. “Maybe Andy just wanted you out of his hair?”

Nick knows that’s not the case. Given the chance, Andy would probably have him bent over his desk in that skirt he likes. “Maybe so.”

“Are you kidding? He’s got a big fat crush on him, it’s so damn obvious.”

Nick feels himself blushing again. He shakes his head, though Dale is right; it is obvious. But he uses that crush to his advantage. He says nothing.

“Something going on between you two?” Dale asks. Her and Warren stand side by side before him, trying to put the pieces together.

“I have a boyfriend, so no. It is fun to mess with him though, I must say.” Nick smirks, thinking of the lap dance incident. He almost laughs.

“You’re gorgeous, that’s why,” Dale compliments. “And I bet you look even better on the pole.”

Nick smiles and removes his jacket and sets it down on the stage. He’s prepared to give them a show. “You’ll see, let me get some music on first.”

He steps down from the stage and makes his way to the sound system. He spots John walking towards him, his shift just beginning.

“Hey, Nick. What’re you up to?” he asks, looking particularly happy this evening. His hair has some life to it still; that wash did him good.

“We got a couple new dancers. I’m putting a tape in, about to show them one of my routines. How are you and Roger getting on?”

John starts to follow him over to the sound system. “I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.”

Nick looks at him, slightly shocked. “Don’t tell me neither of you asked each other out yet.” He can tell just by the look on his face that they haven’t yet.

“I’m nervous, he’s shy. We’re both horrible at this, if you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re really thick-headed, Nigel. More so than I thought.” Nick searches around the system for his favorite tape, marked _Arcadia masters #3_. He pops it in and turns the stereo on, hitting play and adjusting the volume appropriately.

John lets out a sigh. “I’ll do it tonight on break. I just don’t want to make him uncomfortable, you know?”

“I told you, he likes you a lot. You have nothing to worry about. Get your man!” Nick grabs his arm. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the dancers. I think you’re going to love them.”

When he returns to the stage, he pulls John up with him. Dale and Warren have taken to the two back poles, making up their own moves to the song playing through the club’s speakers.

“Dale, Warren, this is my best friend John.” Nick lets him go, staying next to him.

“C’mon John, let’s see your moves!” Warren exclaims over the music.

“He’s not a dancer,” Nick answers, chuckling softly as he looks to John. “But if he would like, I could teach him how...”

“I would make an awful dancer, Nick.”

Nick raises a dark brow at him. “Maybe you could impress Roger? I’ll let you borrow my clothes, put some makeup on you, get you all done up. He won’t be able to resist you then.”

“You really like messing with me, I’ve noticed.” John smiles, the mention of Roger bringing it to his face.

“Maybe so.”

John puts a hand on his shoulder, pushing him forward a bit. “Now get your ass on that pole, before you miss your own song!”

“Oh _shut up_.” Nick pushes him back before he gets to the pole, letting the music sway him.

It isn’t long before he gets lost in the beat, hypnotic feeling taking over. The bass crawls and his heart throbs in time. He’s not wearing the right outfit for this, but he has no problem getting into it enough to forget.

He wraps his thighs around the pole and climbs, leaning back and taking a deep breath before drawing back again. He throws his head back, hair hardly moving from all the hairspray. Sliding back down the pole, he is in his element, legs clinging as he twirls his body around.

The song ends and yet he still feels the effects of it, that entrancing feeling the music brings him. He brings himself to the ground again and finds Warren and Dale staring at him, both leaning into their poles.

“That one always carries me away,” he jokes, the next song beginning, a more mellow kind of melody. “So, what did you think?”

“I’ve never seen anybody dance like you,” Dale begins, nails tapping the pole. “And I’ve never heard music like that. That’s beyond talent.”

“I need to hear that one back again,” Warren chimes in. “That was one sexy track.”

“John, could you go and rewind the tape for us? Pretty please?”

———

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, Nick.”

“You begged me!”

“Did not.”

“Did too. Now hurry up and get those fishnets on those lanky legs of yours. I don’t have much time left before I go on.”

John pulls the fishnets up his legs, laughing the entire time. “This has got to be the craziest shit I’ve even done for anyone.”

“Roger is gonna see you and run the other direction, at this rate,” Nick teases, flicking through the mass of clothes on his rack, trying to find something suitable for John. It proves to be quite the task.

“Ugh, don’t even joke about that.”

“Just remember what I said.” Nick pulls out a leather skirt. Might as well go simple, knowing John’s tendencies. He turns and finds him running his hands along his thighs, eyeing the tights. “You like them, don’t you?”

His brown eyes light up. He flicks a lock of hair out of his face, a hot mess, really. “Fuck yeah I do. I get it now, why you like this stuff so much.”

Nick holds out the leather skirt. “How about this?”

John stands to his full height, towering over Nick. “Sure, why not?”

He takes the skirt, inspecting it before sitting back down on the leather sofa to put it on. Nick continues his search, this time for a top. The most ‘John’ thing he has come across is a black and white corset with embroidered lace. He removes it from the rack.

“Jesus, Nick. I look like a bigger version of you.”

“Yeah, except you can’t dance to save your life.”

John laughs, smoothing his hands over the skirt. It’s quite short on him. Nick takes him over to stand in front of the mirror.

“This is going to be tight, so don’t freak out.” Nick guides the corset around his torso, starting to lace up the back, pulling on the black strings. _Hard_.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding, huh?” John looks himself over in the mirror. He doesn’t look half bad. He parts his lips, then pouts. Maybe some red lipstick would pair well with this outfit.

Nick shakes his head. “And this isn’t even your size,” he says, yanking the strings harder. “Almost there.”

John arches his back, away from Nick’s hands.

“Stop moving!”

“Can’t help it, your hands are fucking freezing.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

He ties the corset finally, turning John around. He can’t help but be amused by the sight of him; he looks a bit awkward, lanky form adorned in clothes that are a bit on the smaller side. But it almost works.

“How do I look?”

“Ridiculous, kind of sexy but you missed the mark. You could use some gloves, maybe that would help.”

John’s laughing again. “This was a terrible idea.”

As Nick is looking for the matching gloves to go with the outfit, there’s a soft knock on the door. “Who is it?” he calls.

“Roger. Is John in there? I need to talk to him.”

Nick and John share a look. “ _Fuck,_ ” John mouths. He turns red and his heart starts beating so fast he thinks he may topple over and die right in Nick’s dressing room.

He can’t tell if this is the worst timing ever or the best timing ever.

“He’s in here. Hang on a second.” Nick forgets about the gloves. On his way to open the door for Roger, he grabs John and pulls him back to the leather sofa.

“He’s gonna think I’m— ”

“Stop all your worrying. Just let it happen.” Nick pats his shoulder, reassuring his best friend.

John throws his head back and groans softly, hair tousled. Nick lets him go. With each step, he gets closer to the door, and John tries his best to play it cool. He leans forward and grabs a magazine from the coffee table, opening it to a random page and pretending to be engrossed in the glossy pictures.

Roger slips in and their eyes meet. He always looks so put together, hair done perfectly, clothes smooth. His thousand watt smile falls on him, and John is suddenly very aware of his every movement.

Before he knows it, the door is shut with Nick out of the room. Roger’s hands are behind his back, causing John a great deal of confusion. He starts to close the distance between them, sitting down and taking the space next to him, hands still hiding something.

“What did Nick do to you, Johnny?” is the first thing out of his mouth. He’s polite about looking, his gaze swift as his eyes drift over his body.

“Long story,” he chuckles, almost breathless. “What have you got?”

Roger looks down, then brings both hands forward. He’s clutching a rose, cheeks flushed as he holds it out to John. Their eyes meet again, the moment capturing them in a flash of warmth.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you out but I didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. So this is me trying to say it.”

John tosses the magazine aside, in favor of the beautiful red rose in his hand. He’s beaming, eyes bright as he takes the flower held out to him. “Yes,” he utters. “I’d love to, Roger.”

Roger’s face matches his own, glowing with absolute elation. They move closer to one another, Roger’s hands moving up to cup John’s face. “Good. You look amazing in that, by the way.”

“Thank you. Nick’s idea, I just encouraged it,” he laughs, eyes stuck on Roger’s plush lips.

The rose joins the magazine. It lands softly on the floor, both of them too caught up in each other to pay mind. Roger takes an unsteady hand and lets it feel along John’s thigh, fingertips brushing the black fishnet agonizingly slow. They tread forward carefully, not too fast.

Their lips join, moving together in synchronicity. John pulls Roger’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking lightly. Roger’s hand doesn’t leave his thigh. He grips him there, clutching tight and bringing him even closer.

John’s hands roam, and before long, he finds himself in his lap. Roger draws back to press kisses along his neck, not quite frantic, but almost. John has to stop himself from going any further; he should be working, not making out with the bouncer.

Though this is definitely more fun than working. They part, sharing a giddy, high feeling.

“I should change, get back out there before Andy notices I’m gone.”

“Or... you could take the stage. You look like you’re ready.”

John is bright red at this point. “Maybe someday, who knows.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m back, work’s been rough the past month but i have finally found time. still a bit to go with this one!

“Missing Persons, huh? That’s a good name, I like it,” Simon tells Warren, leaning over to view him from behind Nick.

Nick is currently sat in Simon’s lap, still dressed in his dancing clothes; not that he minds. His trademark fishnets cling to his pale legs and black vinyl adorns the rest of his body.

Warren is stretched out on the floor near the coffee table, propped up by his palms and shirtless. He’s practically glistening underneath the bright dressing room lights. It could be sweat and it could be body oil. It’s kind of hard to tell.

“No deal yet, we’re trying to get ourselves out there,” Dale chimes in, perched on the back of the the sofa next to Simon and Nick.

“You hear Andy’s got connections?” Roger asks. He and John have snuggled up on Nick’s vanity chair, the two of them hardly fitting side by side on it. The sight of them together is quite endearing.

Warren raises a brow in his direction. “He does?”

“Some guys from EMI. He’s been very secretive about it though, like he doesn’t want anyone to know. Heard he’s been doing something with Robert Palmer too. I suppose he’s playing on his album that’s due out soon? _Riptide_ , I think,” Roger spills. One of his hands is resting on John’s knee now.

“Damn, how do you know all this?” Warren asks, a bit of surprise showing on his face.

Nick chuckles. He’s got a manicured hand on the back of Simon’s neck. “He’s quiet, people tell him everything because they know he won’t spread it. Oh, and he eavesdrops.”

“But now he’s ruining that reputation, huh?” John nudges him, smiling, adoration shining in his expression.

Roger breaks out into a smile too, John’s own contagious to him. “I can be loud when I want to be, you know.”

“You’ve caught yourself a wild one, Johnny,” Simon chimes in, to Nick’s chagrin. He pinches him as punishment. “ _Ow_ , Nick, what the f—”

“Don’t start, or I’m not taking you home with me tonight.”

“You know you will anyway. You hate when I’m not there, said so yourself, babydoll.”

Dale eyes the two of them, her thick lashes fanning. “So, when’s the wedding you two? You act just like my husband and I when we’re together, it’s kind of crazy.”

“You didn’t tell me you were married, Dale.” Nick looks away from Simon, giving Dale his attention. He feels Simon’s hand running up his fishnet clad thigh, warm digits gliding slowly.

“Terry’s in the band, our drummer. We’ve been together a long time. Maybe you’ll get to meet him soon.” She cards a hand through her hair, pushing pink locks back over her shoulder.

“Roger drums, too,” John adds. “I play bass.”

Nick shifts in Simon’s lap, earning a little groan from him that makes him think of the hours ahead, what he knows they’ll have in store. “It seems we have a room full of musicians.”

“Who are all employed by a strip club, except me.”

“I’m sure Nick could get you a job, Simon. For the low low price of sucking Andy’s cock.”

The rooms erupts in laughter, their new friends finding John’s comment rather hilarious.

“Nigel!” Nick contemplates throwing a high heel at his best friend, full force. But that would require getting up from Simon’s lap, so he decides against it. “I wouldn’t suck him off for a million pounds.”

“Really? I would,” John replies, still laughing. “Take the money and run, no more waiting tables. Start a band with the money, make more money, be famous. Live the dream.”

“You forgot the marry Roger part,” Nick teases, winking with attitude that he knows will have John all flustered. “You won’t even have to change your name, how convenient.”

John and Roger share a look, blushing like crazy. They both know it’s just a joke, but it’s impossible not to think about it after the suggestion.

“That is true,” Roger says, biting his lip. He squeezes John’s knee and doesn’t remove his hand.

Just then, the unlocked dressing room door is pushed open to reveal the big boss man. Or, more accurately, the little boss man: Andy. Conversation fades, all six of them looking his way.

“Woah, party time I see. Was wondering why the other dressing rooms are empty,” he remarks, eyes landing on Nick. He holds up the Arcadia cassette he gave him earlier in the night. “Nick, this is brilliant.”

“Thank you,” he replies. He’s feeling a bit awkward under his gaze; sitting in his boyfriend’s lap like this in front of his boss.

Andy paces closer to them. “Seriously, it’s the best stuff I’ve heard in a long time. I’ve been building a studio here in the basement. You’re welcome to record down there if you want.”

“Is it done?” Warren pipes up. “All ready to go?”

“Almost. A few more days, finishing touches and the like.” Andy looks to Simon. “Are you the one singin’ on the tracks?”

Simon nods. “That would be me, yes.”

“Good, good. I know some guys looking to sign and if you make a demo, I’ll get that to them. You could sell big time.”

“You think so?” Nick inquires, noting the way Andy has been gazing at him. He’s starting to realize that crush is probably very real. He’s going to use it to his advantage.

“I do. You and...”

“Simon. Simon Le Bon.”

Everyone in the room giggles at that. Andy’s got a pair of sunglasses resting on his head for some reason, and he adjusts them as he laughs. “Simon, consider yourself my employee. You can come in when Nick comes in, work a bit before the show starts at night. Let’s make this happen, yeah?”

“Got it, yeah. Thanks, man.”

Andy holds his hand out. Simon takes his off Nick’s thigh and they shake hands, sealing the deal.

Before he can turn away to leave the room, he looks right at Nick again. “You’ve got yourself a pretty one, might I add, Simon. A real keeper.”

Nick blushes madly.

“I know, I really do,” Simon says in reply, beaming at the man perched in his lap.

Andy leaves then, and when he’s far enough out of earshot, John starts laughing. He really can’t help himself.

“God, Nick, he’s got a thing for you and it shows.”

“There’s a fucking studio down there! How many secrets does that bastard have?” comes Warren’s reaction.

Dale moves to stand and hovers by the door. “We should go talk to him, Warren. This could be our chance.”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

With that, Warren rises from the floor and the two of them leave Nick’s dressing room. 

“I think it’s time to call it a day, I’m knackered,” Roger says. “I can take you home, Johnny.”

“Johnny’s getting lucky tonight!”

Roger rolls his eyes at his comment. “I didn’t mean it like that, Simon.”

John glares at Simon, then they both smile, a knowing kind of smile.

“It’s been a long one, we should get going too,” Nick tells Simon. He leans forward and presses his lips to the tip of Simon’s nose, earning a cute, scrunched up face from him. “I’ll take you back to mine tonight, since you’ve been a good boy.”

“Ew,” John remarks.

“Shut it and kiss your man, Nigel.”

John wouldn’t pass up that chance, never in a million years, so he does. This is just the start of something incredible.

———

The room is warm and quiet, their balmy skin pressed together. The sheets have been kicked to the bottom of the bed, sweat slick bodies not needing the extra layer. A red lava lamp glows and bubbles in the corner of the room. It’s paired with moonlight, spilling in through the window.

Sleep is not on either of their minds, not yet. Simon’s hands glide slowly along Nick’s body, committing every dip and every bone to memory. He studies the beauty marks dotted along his frame, each one another reason to fall deeper for him.

Weightless, they continue the fall. It hardly feels like falling. It’s more like floating, blissful and so aware of it.

Nick moves, sitting up more in his bed. Simon rolls onto his back and Nick settles on his bare chest, arms crossed. His chin rests atop them and he directs his eyes to Simon’s soft expression. A grin spreads across his face. He starts to card his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes.

He saw him just hours ago underneath the red glow of _Arcadia_ , but Simon likes him in this lighting even more. He’s his here and now, and his only. No prying eyes fall on his naked flesh in this room, only his own.

He blinks slowly, though he’s not tired yet. Simon’s touch soothes him, makes him feel safe and secure, wanted and loved.

Loved.

Simon starts to hum a familiar tune. Nick listens intently, feeling the vibration of his voice in his own body. He feels dreamy. High, almost. The moment is their own to savor, to grow closer entwined in each other’s lives.

His wordless humming soon fades entirely. He looks as though he’s deep in thought. Simon’s hand moves down, his arm wrapping around Nick’s slender shoulders to bring him closer. Nick lets himself be pulled in again, contented in his boyfriend’s arms.

“What are you trying to do?”

“I’m thinking of the lyrics I’ve been working on for one of your tracks. Want to hear what I’ve got so far?”

Nick relaxes against him as they whisper in the heat of the night. “Of course I do.”

“Out on the tar plains, the glides are moving, all looking for a new place to drive. You sit beside me, so newly charming. Sweating dewdrops glisten, freshing your side,” Simon croons, words falling effortlessly off his lips.

In wonder at his poetry, Nick looks at him, eyes brimming with emotion. Maybe it’s just because it’s late, and he’s been awake for a long time, but his words sound like the best thing he’s ever heard. They’re like magic washing over his senses. They almost overwhelm him; cascades of feeling.

“And the sun drips down, bedding heavy behind, the front of your dress all shadowy lined. And the droning engine throbs in time with your beating heart.”

“How do you come up with this stuff?”

“It comes to me, begging to be written. Almost like an impulse.”

“Well,” Nick starts, tilting his head so his cheek rests on the back of his hand. “I’ve had ideas wake me up at night, sequences that I’ve built entire songs around.”

Simon watches his lashes, then his lips. He could get lost looking at his face, forget himself completely. “You came to me in a similar way.”

“Did I, now?”

Nick closes in on him, chasing his lips in search of a sweet kiss. He tastes better than any lover he can imagine, anyone he could conjure up within the confinements of a dream. He’s more than a fantasy, more than a simple affair. He realized this very early on.

Simon sits up and continues to hold him close, hand splayed across his bare back. He devours his mouth, passion strong and persistent. Nick’s dainty hands dance down his chest, so close to his revived cock.

Their tongues caress one another as Simon lays him down on the bed, hovering over him. It goes without saying that they’re ready for another round. When they pull apart, lust is burning in Nick’s eyes. His lips take the form of a pout, feeling the heat in his touch spreading through his entire body at a rapid speed.

Simon reaches over to the nightstand, hand searching the tabletop for supplies they left there earlier in the night. He clutches lube and a condom in the red glow of the room, eyeing Nick with his own lusty eyes. 

To his surprise, before he can spread his legs to let him in, Nick reaches out and stops him. Simon looks at him inquisitively.

Then comes his question, a bit of a shock to Simon. “What if we switched?”

“You... you want to?”

Nick nods, then smiles. Simon looks down and his cheeks flush. The dreamy red glow of the room conceals it, though there’s no need for secrets here. Plenty of trust has been gained, communication between the two of them strong.

“Have you ever been on the receiving end before?” Nick asks him, searching his face.

Simon shakes his head. “No, but I trust you. Completely.” He hands over the condom and lube, giving him the reigns.

“I think you’ll like it.”

“Well, it’s you. I’m sure I will.”

Nick chuckles softly. He sits up in the bed as Simon draws away from him. He steals a kiss, then another, Simon’s lips molding against his own. A low moan escapes his mouth just anticipating what’s to come.

“Lie down on your back, babe. I need to see your face.”

Simon follows his orders without hesitation. Nick settles between his legs, running a beautiful hand up the length of his thigh. Simon looks up at him with wide eyes, watching his face, dragging out the tender quiet moment between them.

He leans forward and lets his plump lips brush his neck, smaller body hardly covering his larger frame. Simon pulls him in as he sucks on a piece of skin just below his clavicle, determined to leave a mark behind, a physical reminder of the here and now. A memento to appreciate in the morning light.

“Have you ever been on top before?” he inquires, forcing out the words breathily.

Nick moves to look at his face. One of Simon’s hands is on his back again, pressing their chests flush together. “A couple times, yes.”

“That’s surprising.”

“I’m not _always_ a pillow princess, Simon.”

“Princess,” Simon repeats with a smug glance. “Alright, show me then. I can take it.”

Nick doesn’t need any further encouragement. He runs a hand down his chest, slow and teasing, making eye contact the entire time. He wraps a hand around his already hard member and starts to pump, eliciting a groan from him.

Simon spreads his legs for Nick, laying back and relaxing his body into the mattress. His eyes catch the lava lamp, then the moonlight streaming elegantly through the window. He directs his gaze back to Nick. He looks like an angel in this lighting; practically glowing.

Before he gets the chance to tell him to stop, before he has the chance to come in spurts down his hand, Nick lets him go. He sighs as they glide along his thighs again.

Though it’s usually the other way around, he finds a thrill ripping through him when he hears the cap of the lube pop open.

“This will feel weird at first, just breathe and relax,” Nick tells him, his tone kept soft. He dispenses some of the clear gel, making sure his fingers are nice and slick for Simon.

“I’ll be— _oh_ ,” Simon gasps at the intrusion, “fine.”

Nick stops, a worried look on his face. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Keep going, please.”

Nick slips his finger back in, his other hand resting on Simon’s thigh. He works him open how he likes it himself; building up the pace, starting out slow and speeding up.

He watches Simon’s toned chest rise and fall, listens to the little pants that escape his parted lips. He adds a finger, scissoring them slowly.

“Feels nice,” Simon sighs. “Is this what it’s like to be you?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

“I hope so. You always take such good care of me.”

“Because you deserve to be taken care of.”

Simon starts to grind down on his fingers, growing impatient as the moments pass. Nick notices and pulls them out carefully. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

He nods. “I want you, Nick. Right now.”

Nick preps himself, taking his hardened cock in his hands and rolling the condom down. “Who would have known you’d be such an impatient, demanding bottom?”

“Just admit that you love it.”

“I can’t lie, I do.”

Nick coats himself generously with the lube and tosses it aside. Simon spreads his legs further, allowing him access. He gently presses in, watching his face for any sign of pain or discomfort. He finds none, so he inches forward more.

Simon resorts to gripping the sheets beneath him, head tilting back slightly as he lets Nick in. The tables have turned and it’s weird, but he could get used to this, if it’s something they want to repeat in the future together.

“Okay still?” Nick asks. His hands are gripping Simon’s hips, steadying them both as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Yeah, keep... going, _fuck_.”

Nick starts with shallow trusts, testing the waters. Simon feels so good around him; it’s been a while since he felt this sensation and he knows he won’t last much longer because of it.

He looks at his face in the red glow, the way the shadows fall upon his features. He remembers that night he saw him in the crowd, and feels so incredibly lucky to have gotten this far with him in such a short amount of time.

“Harder,” Simon tells him, staring at his rose tattoo. “Wanna feel you, all of you.”

Nick doesn’t hesitate. He draws back and gives him what he wants, thrusting into his warm heat. His hair is in his face, already a mess from earlier, black locks astray. But he knows Simon loves it, loves how wild he can look after they go down on each other.

Simon lets go of the sheets and opts to pull Nick closer, any way he can. He reaches for Nick’s hands, removing them from his hips and clutching them tightly. Their fingers end up intertwined, as Nick continues to thrust into him. The gesture is sweet, loving, even.

“You’ve... gone all soft on me,” Nick forces out. “But I like it.”

“Can’t help it, I have feelings.”

Nick feels a rush flood his veins. It’s a combination of his approaching orgasm and those pungent feelings. “So do I.”

Simon squeezes his hands tighter. This is all so overwhelming yet he doesn’t want it to end at the same time. He seriously underestimated Nick, that’s for sure.

“Getting close.”

Nick doesn’t have time to reply, because in a second he’s spilling into the condom. Simon follows shortly after, all over his stomach, and they’re both going to need another shower now.

Luckily, that’s the opposite of a problem. It has become something like a ritual between them, one of their favorite things to do together.

The red glow of the room cradles them a little while longer as they untangle. They let go of each other’s hands, their bond even stronger now.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RoJo time! trying to be more frequent with my updates, but sadly work is still very draining. i’ll do my best to do more and soon 💕

Cigarette smoke dissipates into the night air, drifting slow until it fades away completely. It serves as more of an incense; John hasn’t taken a drag in a while, too caught up in this moment to care.

They’re looking up at the sky together, searching for stars, though the city lights often dull their shine. John is huddled into Roger’s side, leaning on him as they sit on the roof of John’s apartment building.

He has wanted to take Roger up here since he started to fall for him, to experience this secret place with him by his side. He comes up here to think, to smoke and at least make an attempt to get his shit together. He’s always alone though, and this time, it feels different, with Roger here.

He’s slouching so his head can rest on Roger’s shoulder, their height difference not doing them any good here. He has an arm around him, securing John in place. This contact soothes him, and all the jittery, nervous feelings have long since faded. Like the smoke, they have dissipated in the night air.

“I’ve had the best time tonight. I almost don’t want the sun to come up, it’s been that great,” John admits, tilting his head to look at the side of Roger’s face. He looks angelic, so beautiful he can’t bare to look away.

“Who cares if it does? I’m not leaving you, remember,” Roger reminds him. The arm he has around him is even more reassuring paired with his soft words. John silently wishes he could melt into Roger, like butter on toast, perhaps.

The cigarette continues to burn on in between John’s fingers. He notices and puts it out with the heel of his shoe before he can burn himself. He then directs his attention back to Roger. He knows they should go inside soon, but it’s hard to find the willpower to leave this comfortable spot. Very hard. His body against his radiates heavenly warmth.

“That’s true, yeah.” John cuddles into him, clinging even more than before. Given the choice, he never would let go. “I like having you here, being with you outside of work.”

“Well, I like being with you. No matter where or when.”

“God, so cheesy. But I love it.”

Roger chuckles, pressing his face to the top of John’s head. “I’m glad you do.”

“Would you like to go in? It’s a bit chilly, don’t you think?” John asks. He doesn’t let go of Roger. He couldn’t even if his life depended on it.

He feels Roger nod atop his head. “We can go in. I’d hate for you to be cold, you know.”

John’s breath is taken away when Roger moves to help him up, a strong hand placed on his forearm. Strong, yet gentle. He knows his strength and uses it sparingly, which makes John feel so much smaller than he is. When he’s standing again, Roger opts to take him by the hand. Their fingers interlock, as if they were made to do just that.

John is beginning to think they were.

They head to the door and make their way down the stairs together, even the simple patter of their footsteps rhythmic as they descend together. John doesn’t let go of his hand. He wouldn’t dare do such a thing.

They make it back to his apartment, the space quiet and warm. There’s so much John wants to say, but nothing makes it past his lips. His heart is in his throat, beating so fast; feeling everything at once. This feeling came on fast; a strike of lightning to his senses.

He takes the lead, leading Roger to his bedroom. It could really use a good cleaning. There’s a full ash tray on his nightstand, piles of clothes on the floor that need washing. His beloved bass guitars live in the corner, collecting dust as time passes in the blink of an eye. He hasn’t had the time to play for many reasons, Roger being one of those reasons.

They both stop in the middle of the room, right next to John’s bed. The waning moon offers them little light, so for now, they rely on their other senses to help guide them where they want to go.

But neither of them are quite sure of that: the what, the how, the why. Their hands release, fingers untangling so slowly it’s almost agonizing. John looks at Roger, or perhaps at the shape of him, the man in question shrouded in shadows. His heart is still pounding and he half wishes he could control it somehow.

John feels like he’s floating, flying and it’s not as graceful as he would like it to be.

Roger reaches out and sets a hand on his waist, careful and tentative. To John’s surprise, he is pulled in for an embrace. It’s tight and ever so warm, the other man’s body against his bringing him feelings of pure elation.

There’s no place he’d rather be. He settles his head against Roger’s, leaning down slightly to make up for the height difference.

This is perfect in every way, but John finds himself wanting more than this. He needs to be loved and cared for tonight; Roger is the only one in his sights who can do it right. He craves him in ways he has never craved another person, something so deep it’s driving him wild.

He needs Roger like he needs air to breathe.

Roger starts to sway him, gentle and slow in his strong arms. John’s body acts on impulse. He draws back and dives in for a kiss, feeling his lover’s mouth upturn into a smile. It takes him a moment to respond, but when he does, that rush fills John again. It’s a feeling he could get used to, get acquainted with effortlessly.

They keep their lips molded together, moving together, very mindful of one another. John prays for Roger to take it a step further, for him to be the one to initiate something more. His hands fall lower but stop before they’re to John’s liking.

John pulls away, their faces still impossibly close. There are so many words on the tip of his tongue, so much he wants to utter, yet doesn’t have the courage to say.

“What’s wrong?” Roger asks, almost as if he can read John’s mind. The worried look on his face is hidden by the darkness of the early morning hours.

John’s mouth opens and closes, unsure himself. He swallows, stalling for the sake of it, his mind whirling in a downward spiral. The seconds pass without a reply, Roger waiting patiently for his voice to grace his ears.

It never comes. They are both left standing in silence.

Roger lets go of John and looks for way to illuminate the room. He stumbles back into the messy nightstand and fumbles to tug the string on the lamp there. It glows on command and Roger turns to look at his face, deep into his brown eyes. They’re glued to the floor that could benefit from a few passes of a vacuum cleaner.

“John?” Roger reaches out and touches his arm. John doesn’t push him away, but the floor still has his attention. “Is everything okay?”

“Can we... talk for a bit?” John still can’t look at him. He can’t help but feel silly under his gaze; it’s not judgmental, yet he wonders what’s really on Roger’s mind.

Roger smiles, keeping his expression soft and welcoming to make John more comfortable in his presence. “Of course we can, love.”

Roger guides him down, urging John to sit down on his unmade bed. He sits with him atop the messy, wrinkled sheets. He reaches over for his hand to hold it once more.

“Talk to me, Johnny. I need to know what’s going on inside your head.”

John finally looks at him. He immediately feels more relaxed; his face having that effect on him. He takes a deep breath. It all seems so easy even though it’s not. Roger’s been changing his perspective on a lot of things lately.

“I want to give you everything,” John starts, breath coming out uneven. “And I think it scares me.” 

Roger listens to John’s voice intently. “Why does it scare you?”

“Because I’d already do anything for you. Whatever you wanted, anything you ask. I’m crazy for you, Roger. Completely out of my mind.”

He feels Roger squeeze his hand, the pressure reassuring. He swears he can feel his heart beating through his hand, in anticipation of something he’s not sure will happen in the first place. 

“You don’t owe me anything, if that’s what you’re trying to say,” Roger’s soft voice tells him. “I’d never want you to force yourself to do anything for me. Never put someone else’s needs over your own comfort.”

John doesn’t reply, just focuses on easing his emotions. Tears prick his eyes, feelings strong enough for him to burst. He meets Roger’s glance, mesmerized by the gleam caught in his eyes.

“This goes both ways, remember?”

Nodding, John tries to hold back the floodgates, hold back his rain. “I... I need to tell you something.”

Roger moves his body so he’s facing John. “Go on, you know I’m listening.”

His head falls, mop of brown hair along with it. He feels Roger’s hand start to push it away, then lift his chin. The tears have started and his efforts to stop them have done little to help him.

“I just want you to touch me,” John manages to utter, a bit of shame in his tone. “I’d go all the way with you right now, if you... if you wanted that too.”

“You’re upset, John. I would love to, but I’d much rather wait. Fuck, I don’t like seeing you this way.”

“Sorry, I’m—”

“No apologizing. Come here, let me hold you.”

John’s body gives in to his proposal, practically crashing into Roger. Roger lays him down gently, his head against his chest as he cries. He runs a hand up his back. They’re both still in their work clothes, both too caught up in each other to notice just how late it was getting.

Roger holds him close as he can, letting him do what he needs to do. John’s fists are balled, pressed against Roger’s chest. “You’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

He feels John nod against him. He starts to rub his back, circling the expanse with his soothing touch.

John takes in a deep breath, as deep as he can muster in the state he’s in. “Roger?”

“Yes?”

“Help me get these clothes off?” John asks, picking his head up a bit. 

Roger is hesitant, looking at his face for a few long moments. He’s still crying, tear tracks down his reddened cheeks. He’s a sad sight and it makes Roger’s heart ache in the worst way.

“Don’t wanna sleep in my work clothes, not tonight.”

“Okay, I’ve got you.”

John sighs as he feels Roger start to work on the buttons of his shirt. He’s in no hurry at all, calloused fingers slipping them through the holes. He watches him, watches his movements and the flutter of his lashes as his eyes shift down.

He guides the black shirt off his arms, John assisting him. He blinks through the tears, and instead, tries to focus his attention to Roger.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but I like your tattoo.” Roger offers him a warm smile. “Doesn’t Nick have the same one?”

“Thanks,” John smiles too and it doesn’t feel forced. “He does, we got them together. He’s been my best friend for a long time.”

Roger takes his shirt and drops it over the side of the bed, joining the rest of the clothes already on the floor. “That’s really sweet.”

John feels guilty for his tears suddenly, a strange feeling coming over him. He wants to apologize for crying in front of him, but that thought soon fades when Roger draws him closer, hooking a few fingers around his waist.

Roger’s lips find his collarbone, where the pretty little rose resides. John sniffles, starting to feel better now. He revels in the little kisses peppered along his skin, a trail of affection left in their wake.

He reaches up to card his hands through Roger’s hair, keeping him close, just where he wants him. He pulls away and their eyes lock, a gaze filled with so much emotion.

Wordlessly, Roger moves to remove his trousers. John is nervous about this part; the weight he’s put on recently has made him softer than he’d care to be. But he doesn’t push him away, he lets him drag the article of clothing down, innocent and slow.

They join the pile on the floor, a concern for later morning. John looks at Roger with eyes brimming with something new, his tears gone.

“You’re beautiful.”

John wants to cry again. His sincere eyes do the trick, melting him down the more he stares. “You think so?”

Roger doesn’t look away. “I do. Of course I do.”

“I used to look a lot better, before... before things got bad.”

“Well, I think you look great right now.”

John starts to feels the sleep deprivation catching up with him, the lost hours of slumber making his head ache. Right now, he’s content with ending the night here. The sun will be up in no time, the new day on the rise.

Roger starts to strip himself, his own shirt slipping off his shoulders to reveal a nice, toned body. All the drumming certainly helps in that department.

John’s tired eyes catch on something on his shoulder. He blinks a couple times, thinking his faulty vision is playing a trick on him. But it’s there, and it’s very real: a tattoo.

“You never mentioned having a tat. What is it?”

Roger looks down, the large piece blending down onto his pec. “Oh, it’s a compass and an anchor.”

“Deep.”

“Guess so,” Roger laughs softly. “We’ll talk more about it in the morning, if you’d like.”

“But it _is_ morning.”

“You know what I mean.”

Before long, John is snuggled in Roger’s arms, underneath the warm sheets. The exhaustion has him falling fast into a dreamless sleep.

The man of his dreams is already here.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of surprises ahead, enjoy 💕

John’s bleary eyes flutter open at a soft touch upon his back. As he’s coming to, he realizes that it’s not Roger’s hand that’s touching him. It’s something soft, perhaps just as soft as his skin.

Roger chuckles, leaning closer and bringing him in for a morning embrace. John welcomes it, snuggles into him and his confusion starts to fade.

“Why are you tickling me?” John smiles, completely unrestrained. He reaches back and his hand clutches the stem in Roger’s hand, taking it from him. “With a rose, of all things?”

“Thought it would be a cute way to wake you up. It is almost noon, after all.”

John watches his lips, then looks down at the rose now between them. “Okay, it was pretty cute. I’ll give you that.”

Roger closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to the tip of John’s nose. “ _You’re_ cute.”

John rolls his eyes. Since when did he enjoy all this cheesy shit so much? “Stop, ’m gonna blush.”

“It’s already happening, I’m afraid.”

John’s not embarrassed, not really. He’s enjoying this. He enjoys every waking moment with Roger, every sleeping moment, too. “I can make you blush too, you know.”

Roger’s deep brown eyes are locked with his; they share an intimate moment. They have every ounce of one another’s attention right now. “I know you can.”

“Kiss me, dammit,” John whines.

That’s a request Roger can’t deny, one he won’t ever deny. He leans forward and their lips meet in a pleasant, chaste kiss. John doesn’t force it to go any further. He has a busy afternoon ahead and he almost forgot about all of it. It’s easy to get caught up with Roger.

He doesn’t want to leave his bed. He would stay here all day with him if he could. In the back of his mind, he’s hoping that someday there will come a time  when he doesn’t have to.

He pulls away to have a good look at Roger, to witness his lovely smile in the daylight. The rose gets tangled up in the messy sheets between them, thornless stem encased in a soft sea of cotton.

“I’m going out with Nick this afternoon before work,” John starts. His fingers play along Roger’s bare chest, coming up to his tattoo. “Clothes shopping with him is always interesting.”

Roger reaches up and brushes hair out of his face. It’s awfully mussed and could use a washing. “Oh god,” he laughs. “Don’t let him make you late again.”

“Okay, that last time was partly my fault, mind you. You know Nick. He can’t let anything go.”

“Well, don’t keep him waiting.” Roger caresses his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Better start getting ready.”

John melts into the touch, so much he almost forgets what he’s supposed to be doing. “I know, I should. But...”

Roger raises a brow. “What?”

“I wanna know about your ink first. Tell me why you got it, what it means to you.”

Roger looks at John inquisitively. Then he smiles, soft and warm. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he tells him.

John lets his fingers run over it again. The compass is pointing East. The anchor underneath it seems to taunt him, as if it knows something he doesn’t know. “Nothing?”

“I wanted a tattoo so I got one. I just liked the look of it, really. Were you expecting some deep backstory, my dear Johnny?”

Roger continues to touch him, stroking his hair now. John can’t help but chuckle.

“Actually, I was. You seem like the type to get something with a meaning.”

“Sometimes things just are, they don’t have to have a meaning. They’re here and they’re beautiful and that’s all that matters.” Roger looks deep into his eyes, connecting their souls with one single glance. “But some things... some _people_ , mean everything.”

———

“Hey, what about this, Nicky?”

Nick turns away from the clothing rack he’s been sorting through to see John holding up a little black strapless dress, complete with a mesh midsection.

He almost laughs out loud. “Seriously, Nigel? I’m beginning to think you just want to get me in the skimpiest outfits possible...”

John moves closer, pressing the dress to Nick’s front. “Not entirely true. C’mon, I know you love it. It’s so you.”

“It’s so me as in _me_ , Nick Bates? Or Nick Rhodes, the dancer, who at this rate will be late for his shift?” Nick asks, eyeing his best friend with bare lids.

He didn’t bother with makeup today, knowing he’d end up redoing it before work anyway. But now he’s kind of wishing he did, since it would have saved some time.

“Not answering that. Try it on, it won’t take long!” John exclaims, clearly not bothered by the passing minutes. “You’re super quick at changing.”

Nick takes the dress from him and rolls his eyes. “I wonder why that is.”

They make their way to the changing room, John tailing behind Nick. He’s carrying quite a few bags, both his own and Nick’s. He’s starting to feel like the boyfriend getting dragged from store to store, but he’s enjoying himself more than he thought he would.

Nick finds an unoccupied stall and pulls John inside with him.

“Really, Nick?”

“You’re acting like we haven’t seen each other completely naked before. Multiple times. And that I wasn’t your first kiss, your first—”

“Okay, okay,” John interrupts. He sits down on a bench opposite Nick, finally getting a chance to rest and put the hefty bags down. “You’re right,” he chuckles.

Nick starts unbuttoning his favorite patterned shirt, his lean body quickly coming into view. John stares at the carpet as Nick pulls his leather trousers down, the material clinging to his legs. He notices the sudden shift of his glance.

“You don’t have to look away,” Nick starts, “not if you don’t want to.”

John looks up and Nick winks.

“You’re awful, stop,” John whines in reply.

Nick starts to shimmy into the little dress; it fits him like a glove. “Aw, I made you blush!”

“You sure know how to embarrass me and I hate it.” The smile on John’s face says otherwise.

“No you don’t. Now could you be a dear and help me with this zipper please?” Nick asks, hands behind his back that then drop down to his hips.

John gets up to assist his best friend. He pushes Nick’s hair out of the way, resting a hand on his shoulder as he tugs the zipper closed.

“It fits you nice.” John looks him over as he turns around to face him. “You have to get it, Simon’s gonna drop dead when he sees you.”

Nick starts smiling at the mere mention of his name, perfect teeth on show. “You really think so?”

“He’s gonna drool a puddle then drop dead.”

He turns again, eyeing himself in the mirror. He twists and turns, and decides that John’s probably right. “Alright, I’ll get it. But...”

John makes eye contact with him through the mirror. “What?”

“I need stuff to go with it. I’m thinking a choker, maybe some new gloves too.”

“You’re about to drag me to the lingerie section, aren’t you?”

A devious smile forms on Nick’s face. “It won’t take long, I promise. Maybe you’ll find something nice for yourself.”

Defeated, John moves to undo the zipper on Nick’s dress. “Fine,” he sighs.

“I can’t wait till Simon’s the one undoing this zipper.”

“ _Nick,_ ” John whines, a little exasperated.

Nick laughs softly, knowing that would get a reaction out of him. John waits for him to get changed out of the dress, which doesn’t take long at all, then they’re off to the lingerie section together.

John tries his best not to look uncomfortable as they pace around the excess of satin and lace. There’s so many colors and beautiful pieces, he doesn’t know where to look. It’s a bit overwhelming, but Nick seems to be in his element the second he disappears between the racks.

Nick finds it difficult to just look for accessories when there’s so much nice lingerie before his eyes. He wants it all, even admiring the outfits the white plastic mannequins are wearing.

It helps that he has someone to wear it for now, someone to appreciate it other than himself. He keeps Simon in mind as he searches for nothing in particular.

John follows after him, still carrying all the bags. He watches Nick gravitate towards a cream and pale blue baby doll, soft and full of frills. He runs his manicured hands along it, imagining himself in it.

“That’s not a choker,” John remarks.

Nick glares.

“But it’s pretty, reminds me of Roxy Music.”

A certain album cover is at the forefront of Nick’s mind. The ideas start flowing. “You saying that makes me like it more.”

John can picture him in it, lazing about his apartment on a day off. Of course, Simon is never too far. “You look good in light colors. You should wear them more.”

Nick’s mind is made up. He takes it off the rack and hands it over for John to hold onto.

“I must say, Simon sure is a lucky sod.”

Nick whips around and smacks his arm as punishment.

“ _Ow,_ the hell?” John lets out, quiet enough so they don’t create a scene. “You know, you should be nicer to the one who’s carrying your stuff for you.”

“And you should learn to shut your mouth,” Nick retorts playfully. “You know I love you, Nigel.”

“You have an awfully weird way of showing it.”

Nick finally stops by an assortment of accessories. He picks up a leather choker with a silver ring and holds it out to John. “Ever thought about one of these for yourself?”

John thinks for a moment. “Maybe, you think I could pull it off?”

“Of course. And I think Roger would adore it,” Nick says with a smirk. He doesn’t make him carry it. “I’m getting it for you.”

“Alright then, Master Bates.”

“You want another smack?”

“Please, Sir. I like it.”

“Ugh, gross.”

Nick grabs a pair of black mesh gloves, cream stockings, and satin gloves with little blue ribbons. A black velvet choker joins the mix, and it almost looks as though they’re finished for the day.

They start to make their way out of the section, and then John stops in his tracks. Nick watches him set all their bags down by his feet to run his hands along an elegant black satin robe with red details along the edges.

“I’ve never seen anything more you in my life, Johnny,” Nick says. “Look, there’s a red and black one too.” 

“It’s like they were made for me.”

He picks up one of each. Nick guides him towards the fitting rooms again.

Time ticks away and neither of them care to notice, too caught up in their shopping spree. They haven’t had this much fun together in a long while.

John giggles as Nick helps him out of his shirt; the sheer leopard print falling off his frame. He sucks in a breath when he goes for his trousers, the two of them up close and personal now. He knows Nick wouldn’t dare comment about his weight or point it out in any way, yet he still feels a bit self conscious about it.

He slips the black one on first. It’s love at first sight when he looks in the mirror.

Nick’s already undressing again to try the lingerie on. The beautiful piece soon adorns his frame, a perfect fit. John watches him smooth the stockings over his toned legs.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous and it’s not fair.” John’s eyes glide over his body, half wishing he was him.

The gloves are added and he looks himself over in the mirror. “Why is it not fair?”

“Because I’m me and you’re you.”

Nick turns and pushes him in front of the mirror instead. “Are you kidding?” he asks. “You don’t see what I see, then. Or what Roger sees, which is a terrible shame.”

John looks deep into the mirror, considering his best friend’s words. He feels him place a hand on his arm, a gentle, reassuring touch, that juxtaposes his earlier actions.

“You’re beautiful. You were as little Nigel who hid behind his glasses and you are today as John.” Nick opts to wrap an arm around him, slotting into his side for a side hug.

“You uh... think so?” John feels a little more confident in himself. The longer he looks, the more he considers that maybe Nick is right after all.

“I wouldn’t lie to you. You know that.”

“You’d better not.”

Nick shakes his head. “Never. Hey, put that choker on. I think it would pair quite nicely with the robe.”

John moves out of Nick’s grasp to retrieve the leather choker. He pops the snap and puts it around his neck, careful not to stab himself with the tag that’s still attached.

He leans down to have Nick help him. His nimble fingers move his long brown locks out of the way and secure the choker to his neck.

“You look stunning, Johnny.” Nick reaches to smooth out his robe, a hand running over his chest. “Almost ready for the pole. All you need is some black and red heels.”

John can’t help but laugh at the mental image of himself trying to walk, let alone dance, in high heels. “No way. I’d fall flat on my face.”

“You’re as graceful as a tree, Johnny.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

———

They’re even more late than they were before, but that’s all due to Nick’s spontaneous decision to stop at the salon and go blonde on a whim. John is talked into a wash and a much needed trim while he’s there.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you as a blonde,” John tells him, trying to recall when he last saw his hair so bright and vibrant.

“I only dyed it black a few months ago, Nigel,” Nick replies as they make a beeline for his apartment to drop their stuff off before heading to work. “Think Simon will like it?”

“I think you could just about anything to your hair and Simon would still be all over you.”

Nick can’t wipe the stupid grin off his face. “I think you’re right about that.”

“You’re perfect for each other,” John muses as Nick’s unlocking his door. “And if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have happened at all.”

“Yeah, yeah. Mister matchmaker _Nigel John Taylor_ at it again. Or for the first time ever, successfully.” Nick rolls his eyes, tossing his stuff down by his sofa in a hurry.

“You better be on your game today, or Andy’s gonna kill us both as soon as we walk in the goddamn door.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ve got him right where I want him.”

———

It’s raining by the time they arrive over an hour late to Arcadia. Andy pulls them into his office, just as Nick suspected he would, though he’s not the least bit concerned for either of them. At least he waited till he finished his makeup for the night.

Although, chances are, he’ll need to touch it up after they’re done here anyway.

“You remember what I said last time, about this not happening again?” Andy asks, looking between the two of them as he takes his sunglasses off and sets them on his desk.

Nick has always wondered why he wears them inside, almost like he’s a rockstar in disguise or something. It’s quite odd. He tilts his head, mind at work already. “Yes,” he replies simply.

“Well... I’m happy to keep giving you chances. But we have to come to an agreement.” Andy stares into Nick’s face, then his eyes shift to his new hair.

“That sounds fair.” Nick knows what’s coming. He pouts slightly, pink lips jutting out just enough to bring attention to.

Andy stands up, coming around his desk to stand before his dancer. “I’ll leave it up to you, Nick. Make it good.”

John can feel the tension between them and he can’t deny that he’s turned on by it. His breaths come out uneven as he watches Andy’s eyes fixate on his best friend, the lust in his eyes very clear.

Nick reaches forward and toys with his tie, teasing him. “I’ll suck you off.”

“Oh, uh... okay. John, you can—”

“John stays.” Nick turns to wink at him. “He can watch.”

John’s face turns bright red. He watches as Nick starts working on Andy’s belt, no hesitation in his movements.

His boxers are tugged down hastily, revealing his half hard cock. John doesn’t know where to look or what to do with himself; it’s all happening so fast.

Andy lets out a groan as Nick takes him into his warm mouth, watching his lips stretch around him. His hands go straight to his hair, blonde locks slotting in between his fingers. “You drive me _insane,_ ” he forces out.

Nick finds it rather hilarious just how easy it is to get what he wants this way. Andy is too easy.

He takes his boss deeper, hands placed on the backs of his thighs to steady him. He looks up at him with watery eyes, anything to get him even more worked up.

John now has a new little problem of his own, which causes a moan to crawl up his throat. He lets a hand drift to discreetly palm himself through his trousers, but it ends up being not so discreet. He wishes Roger were here to offer a helping hand.

Andy thrusts into Nick’s mouth experimentally and he takes all he is given. He closes his eyes and tears stream down his cheeks, a bit of eyeliner and mascara mixed in.

But fixing his makeup is the last thing on his mind.

He lets him fuck his mouth, obscenities dropping from his lips as he gets closer to his orgasm. Nick is aware of John, and the hand that slips down his trousers comes as no surprise. He’s giving him quite the show.

His expertise starts to show through, and having no gag reflex certainly does him even more good in that department.

“Shit,” Andy groans, his grip on the dancer’s hair tightening, their union rougher now. “Fucking close, Nick.”

Nick isn’t nearly as effected by this as John is. He would much rather if it was Simon’s cock in his mouth, but he did make a deal and he’ll see it through.

After all, his paychecks have been good lately. Even better than good. Great, in fact.

When Andy comes, Nick swallows his seed respectfully. He’s glad that this is almost over, though he can’t deny that he’s entertained by all this. It’s quite beneficial to have your boss wrapped around your finger.

He pulls off him with a pop, makeup a bit of a ruined disaster. Andy moves to fix himself and Nick directs his attention to John. He’s a turned on mess, standing in Andy’s office with lidded eyes.

“Need some help there, Nigel?”

John nods shallowly. He lets Nick replace his own hand, his soft hand working him towards completion. In a few short moments, he’s coming in spurts, making quite the mess between them.

Andy returns to his desk, trying to play it cool. He puts his sunglasses back on his face; they hide most of his expression, though Nick knows exactly how he feels.

“Go get yourselves cleaned up and ready for the night.” Andy’s voice is still rough. “Thank you both.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just love writing this fic 🥺💕 big thank you to Tash, who is now tagged as a co-creator of this fic since this wouldn’t all be possible without her!!

Simon sits behind the bar, watching Nick dance from afar. He strips down to a glittery mesh shirt, throwing off his long striped cape in front of the growing audience down on the floor. The top catches the flashing lights as he moves, throwing light akin to the way a disco ball would.

He imagines a cheesy disco song blasting as Nick takes off his clothes; Donna Summer’s iconic hit _I Feel Love_ comes to mind. He chuckles to himself, the sound lost to the heavy beat of one of his and Nick’s new tracks they put together in Andy’s studio. It’s still weird to hear his own voice over the club’s speakers. Perhaps going live is in order.

He watches as Nick’s sultry eyes grow heavy on the crowd before him, fanning his long lashes as he drops down on the silver pole, clinging as he spins. Classic black fishnet tights hug his toned legs as he makes his way around the pole, gathering plenty of the crowd’s attention. Heartbeat quickening in his chest, Simon finds there’s so much more than attraction present when he looks at him.

Simon is lost in the club’s dark, yet busy atmosphere, as well as his thoughts of Nick. He ignores the vanilla Coke on the bar before him; there’s a ring of condensation around the bottom of the glass. Tonight is ‘Glitter Night’ : Nick’s idea, of course. Warren and Dale are sporting their own glittery ensembles, backing Nick as he shines out on the front pole. He’s quite a pretty view.

_Arcadia_ has been getting more packed each night, new members joining and coming in all the time. The weekends see even bigger crowds, and with the addition of more tables and seating arrangements, Andy has had to get to work on hiring. It’s strange to see so many new faces around.

One of those new faces is stood next to him, nearly scaring Simon out of his skin when he discovers her presence.

“Enjoying the show?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course,” he chuckles in reply.

She fits in perfectly at the club, wearing black bra and a mesh top with high waisted jeans. Her long brown hair is highlighted and she’s sporting a pair of hoop earrings. A pair of glittery lids flick back to the dancers on stage.

“So am I,” she says, leaning in closer. She takes a seat next to Simon and puts her elbows on the wooden bar. “That one on the right is so damn hot. _God,_ I would let him rail me into next week.”

“Warren? I gotta say, he is popular with the ladies.” Simon watches her watch him, caught a bit off guard by her blunt nature. “And the guys, too.”

“I’m Amanda by the way,” she introduces, fake lashes fluttering. Her nails tap the bar, also glittery.

“Simon.” He looks away from Amanda and back at Nick again. He’s working his shirt off and it’s making him a little hot under the collar, even though he’s seen him take off his clothes so many times. “So, first night here?”

“Yeah, what about you? By the way you’re gawking at that lead dancer, I’m assuming the same.” She runs a hand through her hair, coming off as quite vain. But this is _Arcadia_ , of course she is.

Simon shakes his head. “I’ve been here a couple months. Andy hired me not too long ago, I’m doing odd jobs and making the music you’re hearing,” he explains. “Oh, and I’m gawking because that dancer is my boyfriend.”

Amanda seems delighted. “Really? That’s just adorable,” she says with a perfect smile. “Tell me about him.”

“His name is Nick and he’s fucking gorgeous. He’s talented as hell. I swear, there’s nothing he can’t do. He’s sarcastic and witty and it’s adorable when he rolls his eyes. He fits in my arms like he was made to be there and I just... wanna spend the rest of my life with him.”

“Woah,” Amanda whistles, but it’s lost to the thumping beat of the music. “Somebody’s got it _bad._ ”

“I love him a lot.”

“Well,” she starts, gazing at Nick too. His blonde locks are now full of rose petals, matching his enticing red lips. “Have you told him yet?”

Simon leans into the bar, watching the condensation drip down his untouched glass. “That’s my dilemma, not sure if I should yet. It’s only been two months since we got together. Do you think that’s too early?”

“It’s never too early. If you feel it, tell him. Why hide it?” Amanda reasons. “Just fucking do it. Chances are, he’s thinking the same thing about you right now.”

The song ends and Nick’s close to naked, so are Warren and Dale. The house lights come on and they make their way backstage for a brief intermission. Simon’s heart thumps at the mere thought of saying three little words to Nick, further solidifying the incredible relationship they have together. He wants nothing more.

“You really think I should?” Simon asks her. “I mean, what if he doesn’t say it back? Then what?”

Amanda gets up from her stool. “Then he doesn’t. But at least he’ll know where you’re at, you know?”

“Fuck, I’m scared.”

“Oh, come on.” Amanda moves forward and sets a manicured hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got this, Simon.”

Simon nods, going to get up from his seat. She stops him.

“Wait,” she says. She then reaches into her pocket and retrieves a slip of paper with glittery purple ink numbers written on it. “Here’s my number. Give it to Warren while you’re at it, if you’d be so kind.”

He takes the paper, smiling. He can already tell that Warren would be more than pleased to meet her. “Okay, I will.”

“I’ve gotta get back to work.” Amanda turns to walk down the bar. “Good luck with your boyfriend.”

“Thank you, Amanda.”

Simon heads straight for the dressing rooms. He doesn’t have much time till Nick is back on stage again, so he has to make this quick.

On the way, in his Nick-fueled haze of adrenaline, he nearly runs straight into John carrying a tray of drinks. The man certainly does not need any help being clumsy, that’s for sure.

“Jesus, Simon,” John lets out, stopping in front of him before they have a chance to collide with one another. “We were both a second away from being covered in cherry cocktails. What’s got you running?”

“Sorry, Johnny. I, uh... need to see Nick.”

John raises a brow. “Something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Simon shakes his head. “No, no, it’s important though.”

“Oh, okay—”

Simon slips by him without another word. Surely John will understand. His heart is in his throat and he feels impossibly warm, breaking out in sweat. The black suit jacket he’s wearing isn’t helping him there.

He finally makes it outside of Nick’s dressing room door. He knocks hurriedly just below the sleek black _Nick Rhodes_ sign Andy got made for him, waiting for Nick’s voice on the other side.

“Come in!”

Simon opens the door and goes inside. Nick is slipping on a dress, tight and black and covered in tiny sequins that sparkle in the light. A matching leather choker adorns his neck. He can’t believe his eyes; he looks so goddamn alluring.

He turns around, fumbling with the back zipper. “Hey, babe,” he greets, pretty smile on show. “Could you help me with this zipper real quick? It gets stuck which is so bloody irritating.”

“Of course,” Simon replies, robbed of his breath.

Nick holds his hair out of the way so his shiny blonde locks don’t get caught in the dress. “Thank you.”

He moves closer to assist his boyfriend, placing one hand on his waist and tugging the zipper up with the other. It glides along with a bit of resistance, but Simon gets it to close all the way.

“Your hands are shaking.” Nick is quick to point it out. He turns back around, staying close to Simon. “Are you okay?”

“There’s something I need to tell you, Nick.”

Nick’s face contorts, giving Simon a worried look. “Did something happen? You don’t look very well.”

Simon cups his cheek, looking deep into his green eyes. His hands won’t stop trembling. “No, I’m fine. It’s just... I’m scared to say it.”

“You’re starting to scare _me_ , Simon. Just tell me, I have to be on in less than two minutes.”

“Okay,” Simon sighs out. “You don’t have to say it back if you don’t feel the same.”

Nick nods, waiting patiently for him to say it.

Simon breathes in, willing the words to come out. “I love you, Nick. I’m so fucking in love with you and I couldn’t wait any longer to tell you.”

A smile spreads across Nick’s face; genuine and ever so beautiful. “I love you too.”

“ _Fuck._ ” Relief floods Simon’s senses. He leans down and rests his forehead on Nick’s, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m so happy.”

Nick moves to press their mouths together, catching in a red-tinted lip lock. The kiss continues with burning passion, Simon’s hands dropping to his hips and pulling him closer. They almost forget they’re short on time, so lost in each other.

“I gotta go,” Nick says when they part, eyeing Simon’s now red lips. “Red looks great on you, by the way.”

Simon lets out a soft chuckle, on a high. He’s completely enamored. “But you wear it even better.”

Nick is blushing, his cheeks flushed with a pinkish color that Simon just adores. “Oh, stop. You’re too good to me.”

“You deserve it. Now get out there and shine.”

Nick’s laughing as he paces to the door, fixing a minor lipstick smudge on the way out. “I’ll shine alright. Warren and Dale are supposed to rip this dress off me in this new routine.”

“Holy shit.”

Nick winks. “Yeah, I knew you’d like that.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Simon gapes.

Hand on the doorknob, Nick turns again. “I love you, Simon.”

Simon’s eyes are shining, glittering with feeling. “I love you too,” he replies, liking the way the words fly off his lips.

———

“Yaz, I’m in love.”

His long time best friend laughs on the other side of the line. “So that’s why you’re calling me at six in the morning, Charlie?”

“Correct. How’s the modeling gig going?”

“It’s fine, can’t complain really. Ren is by my side all day, it’s the best.” He can hear the smile in her voice and it warms his heart.

“That’s fantastic. How is she doing?”

Yasmin sighs happily. “She’s better when I’m around, a lot less on edge. After this, I don’t think she’ll want to model without me here ever again. Can’t blame her.”

Simon recalls Renée’s prior breakdowns, how awful he felt for his best friend’s partner. She’s been through a lot, but at least she has Yasmin’s undying love and support. “You’re a package deal, you two.”

“That we are. So, about Nick. When am I meeting this wonderful little dancer of yours?” she asks him.

“Whenever you’re back in town you can come by the club if you’d like. Oh, and bring Renée along too. I’m sure you would both have a great time in _Arcadia_.”

“In _Arcadia,_ ” Yasmin mocks Simon, giggling. “Yes, of course I will. We should be back tomorrow afternoon, actually. So would tomorrow night be good for you?”

Simon feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist, turning to see Nick all dressed up in cream and baby blue satin. Safe to say, he is very distracted. To top it all off, Nick has the prettiest bedroom eyes he’s ever seen. The temptation makes him weak at the knees.

“Simon? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, Yaz, sorry. Tomorrow night would be great. I’ll uh, call you back a bit later.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you be. Have fun with your _husband,_ ” Yasmin teases. “Bye bye , Charlie.”

“Ugh, bye Yaz.”

Simon hangs up the phone and turns his full attention to Nick. “Let me see what you’re wearing, darling.”

Nick lets him go and steps back, hands on his hips. Along with the soft baby doll, sheer cream stockings cover his legs, and a pair of satin gloves with little blue ribbons. And, last but not certainly not least, is a string of pearls around his neck.

Simon’s jaw very nearly drops through the floor. “Oh my god, Nick.”

“So I take it that you like it, then?”

Simon closes the distance between them, large hands meeting the elegant lingerie. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Nick places a gloved hand on his chest, splaying his fingers and running them down, painfully slow to tease him.

“I love the pearls,” Simon tells him, suppressing a moan. He’s getting turned on just looking at him, feeling along the silky material.

He’s getting ideas. Very dirty ideas. Sweet ones, too.

He is in love, after all.

“What do you wanna do?” Nick asks, well aware of what’s on Simon’s mind. He just wants to hear him say it out loud.

“I think we both know the answer to that question.”

“Then say it.”

Simon’s hands drop to his ass, moving their foreplay further along. “I wanna make love to you.”

Nick takes control, pulling Simon into his bedroom without hesitation. He pushes him down onto the duvet, climbing on top of him.

“I want you, Simon.”

Simon groans, Nick now grinding down on his hardening cock. He grips his thighs, the thin stockings the only thing between him and Nick’s bare skin.

He flips them over after a moment, pushing Nick down into his mattress. He slots between his open legs and kisses him senseless, mouths moving in time with one another, taking each other in as much as they possibly can. Nick emits little gasps as Simon licks into his open mouth.

He is reduced to soft sighs when Simon finally starts to undress himself. He tosses his clothes to the bedroom floor and works on Nick next, fingers hooking underneath the lingerie and pulling the stockings down. A pair of pale blue panties poorly covers his own hard cock when the babydoll rides up.

“This is the prettiest outfit I’ve ever seen you in.” Simon leans over to access supplies in the nightstand. “Can we leave it on?”

Nick nods. “Just don’t ruin it.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Simon tugs down the panties and Nick shucks them off entirely, leaving him bare down south. He spreads his legs apart as he hears Simon tearing open a condom and uncap the bottle of lube. He coats himself quickly, but as he enters Nick, he slows down.

Nick’s eyes look up at him, perfectly blended blue eyeshadow extenuating their size. He grabs onto Simon whenever he can, the smooth gloves caressing his skin. He sinks long and slow until he’s fully inside.

They’ve been together like this too many times to count, but _this_ time feels different.

Simon places both hands beside his head, taking in the sight of him. He draws back and then dives in again, his eyes not once leaving his face. His dark lashes flutter and he lets out a low moan, nails digging into Simon’s freckled shoulders through the gloves.

“Simon.” His name drops from plush pink lips, quite an orgasmic sight. He wraps his legs around him, keeping him closer as he rocks them back and forth.

Another slow thrust sends shivers up Simon’s spine; he realizes he’d do anything for Nick, anything at all. His heart swells, tender eyes still locked in their gaze.

He leans down to kiss him, mouth traveling from his lips to his cheek and down his jawline. Nick tilts his head, moving with him, following the sweet kisses pressed to his skin. He can’t get enough.

“You’re beautiful,” Simon whispers, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Inside and out.”

“I love you,” Nick sighs, overwhelmed by all the love he’s receiving.

Simon feels his climax approaching, though he wants to keep this moment alive for as long as possible. “I love _you,_ ” he repeats, slightly strangled.

It occurs to him, as he’s gazing into Nick’s eyes, taking in his every expression, that he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with him.

He thrusts deep, causing Nick’s back to arch off the bed. Their breaths mingle, so close now, but both holding out as long as they can handle.

Nick’s eyes start to grow watery. Simon notices right away. “Are you alright, baby?” he asks.

“Yes, I just never felt like this before.”

“Me neither.”

Just before he comes, Nick says what Simon’s been thinking, like he can sense it. “Move in with me.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the long wait, i’ll stop my excuses so we can carry on with the fic. good to be back 🖤 here’s a short chapter to get me (and you) back into the groove again!

“Fancy a drink, Nick?” Roger asks from the doorway of the studio. “I think it’s about time you’ve had a break. You’ve been here most of the day.”

Nick is pressed against Simon, the two of them sharing the same chair. They’re working on a new extended dance mix of one of their tracks. He looks up at the bouncer, feeling the effects of tiredness before his shift has even truly begun. Maybe Roger is right, maybe he could use a break.

He looks to Simon. “I’ll be back.” He stands and leans down for a quick peck on the lips. “Now don’t have too much fun without me.”

“You know I won’t,” Simon replies, watching Nick pace towards the door.

Nick sends him a bright smile on his way out, then follows Roger up the steps to the main floor of _Arcadia_.

Amanda is behind the bar, wiping down the wood surface and polishing it for tonight. “No day drinking, before you even ask.” She chuckles, giant earrings moving with her.

“Don’t worry Amanda, we’re saints.” Roger sits beside Nick at the bar. “Two cherry Cokes, three if you’re not busy.”

“You got it, darling.”

Nick runs a hand through his blonde locks, elbow propped up on the bar. He hears a door open down the hall, then the sound of a woman’s voice, somebody he doesn’t recognize. He looks to Roger, then to Amanda, whose back is turned as she’s getting their drinks.

“Do you guys hear something?” Nick asks. “Coming from down the hall?”

The woman’s voice is replaced by the cry of a baby.

Amanda places two full glasses in front of them, quirking a brow. “I heard that. What the fuck?”

“Andy’s office, sounds like. Maybe his wife brought his son in to visit,” Roger remarks before sipping his Coke.

Nick nearly falls off his stool. Andy has a wife, and a son? _Fuck,_ he thinks to himself. _How could I not have known, after all this time working here?_

“I didn’t know Andy had a son,” he comments, as nonchalant as he can muster. He feels weird now.

“Why so shocked, Nick?” Amanda points out, twirling her straw around in her drink.

He plays it cool, or as cool as he can, more accurately. “No reason... just didn’t know.”

Amanda shakes her head, smiling like she knows too much. “There’s more to that and you know it.”

Roger steps in to take some of the attention away from Nick. “Andy is, uh, a bit weird about his personal life. I’m really not surprised he didn’t know.”

Nick narrows his eyes at Amanda. If she could read his mind, she’d be a little offended right now.

“Chill, I’m just messing with you,” she retorts. Lucky for Nick, she changes the subject promptly. “So I asked Warren out last night.”

“Yeah? What did he say?” Nick’s expression softens.

“He said yes, duh. We’re going out tonight after work to have a drink or two. And we’ll see where it goes from there.” Amanda smirks, because something not so innocent is on her mind.

Roger starts smiling to himself, enough for Nick to notice. He gives him a friendly nudge on the shoulder. “Hey, what’s that smile about, Rog?”

“There’s just so many couples here, it’s funny.”

Nick chuckles. “And you’re part of it. With my best friend, of all people. _Real_ good choice.”

“He’s the only one I have eyes for here,” Roger replies, his unmistakable heart eyes confirming just that.

“Aww, love is in the air,” Amanda chimes in. “Fucking adorable couple, you two are.”

Roger smirks and blushes, not even trying to hide it. “Thanks.”

“Now, I don’t know about you two, but I wanna hold that damn baby,” Amanda says, getting up. “I want one someday, you know? Or two, two’s even better than one.”

Nick and Roger both make eye contact. Nick still feels a bit of embarrassment from earlier, but decides to power through it. “I’m going, you wanna come with, Roger?”

“Yes, guess I have no choice.”

———

“He has your eyes, Andy.” Amanda looks as happy as ever with Andy Junior in her arms, wide grin plastered on her face.

“He’s gonna be handsome little fellow,” Andy remarks, the perfect picture of a proud dad.

Nick is surprised to see Simon push his way through the small crowd in the hallway, moving to stand next to him. His heart is warmed when he places a hand on the small of his back, their love solidified in tiny gestures as such.

Andy Junior reaches up and yanks on Amanda’s earring, causing her to giggle. “Oh, he’s a strong little guy,” she laughs, “Simon, help please.”

Simon moves to help her right away,removing Andy’s little fingers from her earring one by one with a large gentle hand. Nick stands by and watches, eyes fixated on his boyfriend.

“Do you wanna hold him? I’m sure Nick would love to see you with a baby.”

Nick gives Amanda a look, then blushes rosy pink. She hands over Andy’s son to Simon, both of them being extra careful while handling him.

“You’ve got yourself daddy material right there, Nick,” John comments from his place next to Roger.

“Oh shut up, Nigel.”

“Who’s Nigel?” Amanda asks the dreaded question.

“Oh god, Nick,” John sighs, exasperated. “Seriously?”

Nick loves teasing his best friend. A smirk lifts the corners of his mouth, knowing it gets John riled up. “It’s his first name, John is his middle name.”

“You’re the absolute _worst_.”

“No, Johnny,” Simon interjects, “he’s the absolute best.”

John sticks his tongue out at Simon.

Andy turns to his wife. “Aren’t my employees lovely, Trace?”

“They’re wonderful,” she replies. “You’re all like a close knit family, it’s sweet.”

Nick looks to Simon again, watching him rock the baby slowly in his arms. _Family._ He smiles, feeling warm and fuzzy inside. He finds he would quite like a family with Simon.

Who knew taking this stripping job on a whim would bring so much joy into his life?

Nick leans into Simon, pressing his smaller body into his side. He wraps an arm around him, so much affection filling his heart. It’s almost overwhelming.

“He’s falling asleep,” Simon whispers, turning to Nick with a soft expression on his face. “How cute is this?”

“Adorable,” Nick says with a pearly smile. He then glances over to Andy and his wife, noting how proud they look to be parents.

_No more,_ he thinks. _No more messing around with my boss._

He’s too much in love to ever do that again.


	16. Chapter 16

“Yaz, it’s so good to see you!” Simon exclaims, throwing his arms around his best friend. She clings to him and smiles, rubbing his back before pulling away.

“Great to see you,” Yasmin replies, Simon at arm’s length. She reaches to pinch his cheeks with her beautiful gloved hands, causing her best friend’s face to scrunch up. “You look so wonderful, my dear Simon. Look at you! You’re just radiating happiness,” she tells him, voice loud enough to hear over the club’s music.

Simon groans, still smiling from ear to ear. “I am happy, very happy.”

Yasmin lets him go, standing back with Renée. The other woman curls her fingers around Yasmin’s arm and cuddles into her. “I can tell you are, it’s a good look on you.”

“You know what else is a good look? You two, coordinated outfits and everything. Is there anything you can’t do together?”

Renée giggles, pretty face full of pure delight. “No Simon, I don’t believe so.”

Yasmin is wearing thin leather gloves and a matching strappy black gown, also accessorizing with an elegant rhinestone studded choker. It sparkles in the updated color changing lights that line the club: red, white, red, white. Renée’s dress is a little more conservative, yet still tight and black, with a lace midsection. Her bracelet pairs with Yasmin’s choker and their earrings match, small glittering studs. They are a coordinated, stylish couple that anyone would envy.

“You both look incredible.” Simon motions to the bar. “How about some champagne while we wait for Nick to come on? On me.”

The three of them pace over to the bar, weaving through the mass of well-dressed people. It’s more crowded tonight since it’s the weekend. With drinks in hand, people mingle, waiting for the dancers to come onstage.

“Nick is excited to meet you both,” Simon tells them as they take their seats. He waits for Amanda to come around, pulling his wallet out of his pocket in the meantime.

“We’re excited to meet him,” Yasmin says, “with all the fuss you’ve been making about him.”

The now red lights help hide Simon’s deep blush. He really can’t help the way he gushes about Nick. “You’ll see what I’m talking about when you meet him. He’s really incredible.”

Amanda comes towards him. “And what can I get you, Simon John Charles Le Bon-Rhodes?”

Yasmin then starts to chuckle softly, looking over at Simon. “There was a wedding already? Damn, could’ve invited your best friend,” she teases, punching his arm.

“Oh, shut it. Both of you,” Simon replies, sliding his cash over to Amanda. “First off, it’s not Rhodes, it’s Bates. Second, the _fanciest_ champagne please. For the two lovely ladies next to me.”

Amanda winks. “You got it.”

“So, Simon. I need to ask,” Renée chimes in, leaning over the bar. “Why is the name _Arcadia_? Does it mean anything?”

“Well, Andy said it came from a painting he saw. From a Latin phrase,” Simon continues, “et in Arcadia ego.”

“Sounds like exactly the kind of place you’d end up in, I must say.” Yasmin smiles as Amanda sets her drink down. “Thank you.”

Simon quirks a brow her direction. “You thought I’d end up in a strip club? Because I certainly didn’t, that’s for sure.”

Yasmin shakes her head. “No, silly. It’s just... artsy. Like you. This isn’t a normal strip club. It’s far from some the sleazy joints I’ve been to.”

Simon turns in his seat, away from the bar and towards the congested floor. Yasmin and Renée do the same. The tables have changed, white roses now joining the red; Nick’s idea. Looking around, a lot of the style shifts were Nick’s ideas, like the crisp white tablecloths. They help brighten up the atmosphere.

“I can agree. Not that I’ve been to that many in my time,” Simon says with a smirk. He really hasn’t, which makes it even more incredible that he found this little slice of paradise by complete accident.

“Believe me, I know. And _I’m_ the prude.”

Renée giggles, the champagne bubbles tickling her nose. “You are not at all prude, Yaz. Not with me, at least.”

“I know.” Yasmin leans over and presses her lips to her neck chastely. “I just have class. And you deserve the best.”

“Nick is the reason the place looks the way it does right now. Andy’s been putting him in charge of the decor. I’m beginning to think there’s not a thing he can’t do.”

“You’re gushing again, Simon.”

Simon leans over, looking right at Renée. “She gushes about you, too. All the time. Don’t let her fool you.”

Renée beams, truly lighting up. “I know she does, I hear her on the phone with you. She’s adorable.”

It’s Yasmin’s turn to blush. She reaches over to clutch Renée’s free hand, intertwining their fingers securely. It’s then that her worst fear comes true. Looking out to the crowd, her eyes happen to catch a familiar face just across the club, white light flashing and illuminating her face.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Yasmin exclaims, mouth dropping open. “No fucking way!”

Simon hears the panic in her voice. “Hey, what’s wrong Yaz?”

Yasmin squeezes Renée’s hand tighter. The woman she sees doesn’t see her, yet her heart still pounds at the thought that she might later in the night. She’s much too close for comfort, even at this distance. “My ex is here. Julie Anne.”

Simon recalls their brief affair, how they were such an unhealthy match. They simply didn’t work, and things got messy between them. Fast. The lying and cheating was the worst part of it, leaving Yasmin in pieces. He’s happy she’s out of that now, but of course, Yasmin’s past still haunts her.

“What if she sees me? Fuck, I haven’t talked to her in months. Not after everything that happened between us.” Yasmin looks worriedly at Simon, searching his face for an answer, perhaps.

“Chances are, she might not even see you or recognize you in the lighting. She’s all the way over there,” Simon reassures, leaning closer and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Stay here, try not to let her ruin your night. Alright?”

Yasmin nods. She keeps her eyes trained on Julie Anne for a moment, throwing her head back, laughing as she talks with another girl. Her big rectangular earrings shine and catch the light, and her dark eye makeup is expertly applied. Yasmin prays she doesn’t come any closer, and if she does, that she doesn’t say a thing to Renée.

“The dancers are due to come on,” Amanda says from behind Simon, very nearly scaring him out of his skin. “In three, two...”

The house lights go down and a new song starts, a few people start to cheer. The show is about to begin.

“Just focus on the show, Yasmin. I think you’ll enjoy Nick’s routine tonight, he really goes all out with this one.”

“Alright, I’ll try.”

Renée smiles at her, squeezing Yasmin’s hand back. She will be okay.

———

Nick’s just finished getting changed out of his leather and fishnets when there’s a knock on the door. He knows by the subtle tapping that it’s Simon. “I’m ready, come in!”

“I bring company, I hope you’re dressed.”

“Yes, I’m dressed. Fuck’s sake.”

Simon comes in, taking Nick into his arms immediately. Nick melts against him, being showered in kisses wherever Simon’s lips can access: his cheek, his forehead, even the tip of his nose.

“Okay,” Nick laughs lightly, glowing with the affection he is shown as he clings to Simon. “Let me meet your friends!”

Simon moves away, keeping an arm around Nick’s shoulders. Yasmin and Renée stand before them, eyeing Nick with soft gazes.

Yasmin takes in his appearance. His bright green eyes are brought out by his tasteful makeup: lined with black and smudged to perfection. A loose fitting white dress shirt adorns his small frame, paired with black leather trousers that hug him in all the right places. He is certainly Simon’s type, or perhaps Simon’s one and only.

“You’re even prettier up close, Nick,” Yasmin compliments. “Ever think of modeling?”

“Yaz! He’s busy enough!” Simon tells her playfully. “Don’t give him any ideas.”

“I have thought about it,” Nick replies, glancing up at Simon. “Thank you very much.”

“You know, I was just telling her earlier how I didn’t think there was anything you can’t do. I still stand by that.”

Nick blushes and smiles, looking elated. “I’m glad you think that, Si. Renée, I love your dress.”

Renée looks down, like she has forgotten what dress she put on tonight. “Oh, thank you. Yasmin helped me pick it out. She’s quite good at that sort of thing.”

“Perhaps a shopping trip is in order?” Nick proposes. “We can even drag Simon along, for extra fun.”

“I’d enjoy it, I’d help you pick out some things. Since lately, I see you’ve been going shopping in _my_ wardrobe.” Simon gestures to the shirt he’s wearing, the sleeves rolled up since it’s a couple sizes too big.

Nick smirks, fluttering his long lashes. “Took you long enough to notice, dear.”

“How could I not? I’m huge, you’re tiny.”

Yasmin starts to chuckle, Renée joining her.

“I did _not_ mean in that way,” Simon starts, a devilish grin growing on his face. “Get your mind out of the gutter!”

Yasmin leans into Renée in her fit of giggles. “Alright, you have to admit that was funny though. Let’s meet these other dancers, shall we?”

———

It’s well past two in the morning by the time Yasmin and Renée leave the club. They walk out the exit door, bidding goodbyes to Roger on the way out. They’re looking forward to winding down together and getting some rest.

They don’t make it very far outside, the glow of the red lighted neon sign still visible at their feet when a voice stops Yasmin in her tracks.

“Yazzy?”

Yasmin nearly tumbles to her knees, her steps faltering as she processes the voice that uttered her nickname. The nickname that no one else has ever used.

Only Julie Anne calls her that.

Renée is holding her gloved hand, luckily. She doesn’t let go even when Yasmin turns around to face her ex girlfriend.

“I thought it was you I saw earlier,” she says, her American accent all too familiar.

Yasmin’s heart is pounding and all she wants to do is run, run as far away as she can with Renée and never look back. “What do you want? We stopped talking for a reason, you know.”

Julie’s cigarette glows in the night, she flicks away the ash and it falls to the pavement. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. For everything. I’m moving back to the States, so you’ll never see me again.”

Good riddance, Yasmin thinks. “I don’t want your apologies, yeah? Just leave me alone, I’m perfectly fine without you. Great, actually.” She looks to Renée.

“I— ”

Yasmin doesn’t let her finish. “You’ve done enough damage, Julie. I’m done.”

With that, Yasmin clutches onto Renée’s hand tighter for the second time that night. They walk fast, hoping for a cab to come rolling by. Yasmin doesn’t look back.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready, it’s an emotional one! i recommend listening to Save a Prayer on repeat as you read this chapter. for dramatic effect!

“Sir,” Dale says sternly, trying to push the man away, “touching dancers is against _Arcadia_ code. Let go of me right now.”

The man mumbles something incoherent and persists anyway, the drink in his system urging him further towards Dale. He snaps her bra strap and she shoves him away, more force than she has ever used on a customer before.

“Let me go before I have you forcibly removed from the club.” Dale knows how to get out of this situation, fair and square. She’s done it before out on the street, and she’ll do it again without thinking twice. “This is your last chance.”

“But you’re just _beautiful_ ,” the man slurs, his mouth uncomfortably close to her ear. He reeks of alcohol. As if this wasn’t already unpleasant enough, his hands grip and push her against the wall. Though he is weakened already in his intoxicated state, which only makes what Dale is about to do that much more effective.

Dale then throws a heel up and kicks him where it’ll hurt the most. He yelps and drops to his knees, while she buys enough time to make a beeline towards the front of the club.

The crowd tonight is thinner, considering it’s a weeknight. For that, she is thankful. She doesn’t look back as she spots Roger, standing with his back turned by the entrance. Somehow, the man has caught up to her. 

He stumbles forward, grabbing her by her hair.

Luckily for Dale, Roger turns around. He sees the commotion and comes dashing towards her. He dives in, roughly grabbing the drunken man by the back of his expensive suit jacket.

John watches it all from a table he has just served, standing there wide eyed as he takes in the sight of Roger manhandling the offending stranger. His heart beats fast, Roger’s strength showing through in his moment. He knew he was strong, of course he is. He has to be for his job. Yet John has never seen him in action like this before.

He can only stare at his boyfriend, taking care of the situation at hand. Roger drags the man to the door, disappearing out of sight. Amanda has rushed to Dale, a hand on her shoulder as she helps calm her.

John’s mind is foggy as he moves towards the bar, setting down his tray of empty glasses before he has the chance to break all of them. He goes right to Dale, who looks a bit shaken.

“Shit, are you alright, Dale?” he asks her, looking her over for any wounds or marks. It’s hard to see in the club’s lighting.

“Yes, thankfully. He just roughed me up a bit, yanked my hair. I thought kicking the bastard in the nuts would be the end of him, guess he had more fight left,” Dale tells him. “I owe it all to Roger.”

Roger returns, immediately flocking to Dale. “That asshole didn’t hurt you, I hope.”

“I’m alright. Thanks a lot, Rog. You’re a real lifesaver.”

Roger smiles, relieved. He moves closer to John and wraps an arm around his waist. “Of course, it’s my job to protect everyone here. Don’t worry, he won’t be back. I’ll talk to Andy and add him to the banned list.”

“Good thing it’s your break time, huh babe?” John feels himself relax, knowing everything is okay now. “You’ve certainly earned it.”

“You can say that again. C’mon, let’s go.”

———

The last few minutes of John and Roger’s break is spent tasting each other’s lips downstairs in the studio. John lets himself be pushed down on the burgundy sofa, stretched out on his back as Roger kisses him with burning passion.

He keens as his work shirt is unbuttoned, Roger’s fingers working slow and steady. He leans down and starts to kiss his exposed skin, down his neck and ending on his rose tattoo. He picks a spot next to it and takes his skin between his teeth, biting light, yet giving the notion that this could get much rougher if he wanted it to.

Perhaps John wants it to. Perhaps he wants it to go further, too, further than just kissing and grinding. He wishes for heavier touching, for the ability to show him even more love than he already does.

He is bursting at the seams, unable to contain it all. His love for him just grows and grows.

“Roger,” John sighs, feeling like he’s floating, in a state of bliss. He holds him close, playing with his hair at the nape of his neck.

Roger stops kissing for a moment, looking up at him with warm eyes full of adoration. “Yes, Johnny?”

“I really love you, you know that?”

Time seems to stop. John’s chest rises and falls, his breath catching up to him. They stare at one another, knowing. They know exactly what the other is thinking; it can be felt through their skin, the expressions on their faces, even in the air that they breathe.

“And I love you, Nigel John Taylor.”

John blushes a deeper shade of red, smiling wide. He reaches up and covers his face, a giggle escaping his mouth. “Not the _full name,_ ” he chuckles.

Now fully straddling his hips, Roger leans forward and takes his boyfriend’s hands off his face. “Don’t cover your pretty face now.”

“You are incredible.” John is wonderstruck. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, to find someone so wonderful and be able to call him his. “Can I tell you something else, before we have to get back to work?”

Roger nods. “You can always tell me anything.”

“Seeing how you handled that drunk bastard who was bothering Dale... that really turned me on. You’re uh, really strong.”

“It did?”

John shakes his head, just thinking about it is sending him reeling again.

Roger grins, taking a hand and caressing John’s cheek. He melts into the touch instantly. His hand moves to his hair, tugging it a bit before pulling away.

“You’re a tease, Taylor.”

“You’re fun to tease, Taylor.”

“Alright, fair enough. Can you tease me more later? Pretty please?”

Roger gets up, fixing his shirt. He holds a hand out to John to help him off the sofa. “Yes I can, babe.”

———

“Alright, stay here and try not to move too much. You’ll get dye everywhere,” Nick instructs, carefully removing the bleach covered gloves from his hands.

“Okay,” Simon replies, watching Nick clean up the hair dye supplies off the sink. “Can you stay and keep me entertained awhile?”

Nick rolls his eyes. Simon is ridiculous but he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I suppose I could.”

He finishes clearing off the countertop and hops up on it, turning to face Simon who is sat on a chair in front of the mirror. 

“You could always sit in my lap, you know,” Simon suggests, smirking. “Reserved for you and you only.”

Nick smirks right back. “Do you want me to?”

“I would like that a lot.”

Nick slides off the counter. “Facing you?”

Simon moves from the chair and scoops him up in one swift movement, surprising Nick.

“Didn’t I just tell you not to move?” he asks as Simon sits back down again, letting Nick settle in his lap. He’s facing the side his _Save a Prayer_ tattoo is on; he’s close enough to make out the inked words along his hairline.

“You did, but I’m rubbish at listening.”

“Well,” Nick starts, “that’s funny. You listen to me in bed just fine.”

Simon snorts with laughter. “Shut your mouth, pillow princess.”

“ _Make me._ ”

Simon raises a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

“No, you’ll get hair dye everywhere. Do you even want to be blonde?”

He groans in response. “I do.” Simon lets his hands run along Nick’s exposed thighs. The shorts he’s wearing really show off his skin, so he takes full advantage of touching him.

Nick smiles, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Simon’s cheek. “You’ll make a cute blonde, I know it.”

“You’re the cutest blonde, though. You’ll always have me beat.”

“You’re a sap.”

“You love it.”

Nick is blushing, something that Simon takes great pride in being able to make happen. “I do, you know that.”

Simon squeezes his thigh. “Can I sing you something I’ve been working on?”

“Let’s hear that lovely voice of yours.”

“You saw me standing by the wall, corner of the main street. And the lights are flashing on your window sill. All alone ain't much fun, so you're looking for the thrill. And you know just what it takes and where to go.”

Nick listens, utterly entranced. “Keep going.”

“Don't say a prayer for me now, save it 'til the morning after. No, don't say a prayer for me now, save it 'til the morning after.”

It’s crazy, but  Nick feels tears welling up. It isn’t often lyrics bring him to tears, yet there’s something about Simon’s delivery that causes something to brew in his head. It’s like his emotions start to unravel.

And the use of his three little words, the ones he has branded on his skin forever, that makes it all the more emotional.

“Simon, that’s fucking beautiful.”

“There’s more, you want to hear?”

Nick nods.

“Feel the breeze deep on the inside, look you down into your well. If you can, you'll see the world in all his fire. Take a chance like all dreamers can't find another way. You don't have to dream it all, just live a day.” Simon watches him smile, which causes him to smile too.

Nick places on hand on top of his, caressing gently. “Are... are these lyrics to that mix I did the other day?”

“Yes.” Simon recalls that beautiful synth, the sound playing over in his mind. “This could really be a hit, I believe.”

“Your words are beautiful.”

“One more verse, this one might make you cry.”

Nick looks to him, already fighting back tears. Simon’s blue eyes are brimming with emotion too. “I bet it will.”

“Pretty looking road, try to hold the rising floods that fill my skin. Don't ask me why, I'll keep my promise, melt the ice. And you wanted to dance, so I asked you to dance but fear is in your soul. Some people call it a one night stand, but we can call it paradise.”

_Paradise._ The word bounces around inside Nick’s brain. It really is. He’s so happy, and before he knows it, the tears are flowing and there’s no stopping them.

Nick forgets all about the dye in Simon’s hair and wraps his arms around him, squeezing him in an embrace that’s tight and healing. He is feeling so much and the waterworks don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

Simon just holds him tight, whispering, “you’re my paradise, Nick.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of surprises in this one 😉

“I can’t believe I’m doing this. I look ridiculous!” John exclaims, fully clothed in an outfit that looks like it came right out of Nick’s closet.

Except this time, it didn’t. Nick bought it just for him, making sure everything would fit him just right. It matches his outfit he wears for his very popular _Chauffeur_ routine: leather and fishnet galore, complete with a driver’s cap. His eyes are lined, lashes darkened and curled. His long brown locks are styled to perfection, all Nick’s doing of course.

“You look fine, John. Dale and I are in the same thing, if you haven’t noticed,” Nick remarks, a hand resting on the pole before him. “Now, can we start the track? Is everyone ready?”

Simon taps the microphone, having forgotten to test it. “Sorry. Testing, testing. Alright, I’m all set.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “You would’ve been ready if you paid attention the first time, babe.”

Simon sticks his tongue out at him. Warren whistles behind him.

“Domestic boyfriends, goddamn. Get married already,” he calls.

“Don’t give them any ideas, we have a routine to run through!” Dale yells back, waiting by the pole opposite of John.

Nick shakes his head, gripping the center pole and laughing. “What do you think? I’m gonna drop everything and marry him? Because, come to think of it, that’s not a half bad idea.”

“See? Told you, Warren!”

Simon’s blushing, and it’s so easy to see underneath the bright white lights. Nick smiles so wide it hurts. He would marry Simon in a heartbeat, no questions asked. The thought distracts him from his work.

“I’m ready, let’s do this. Or, more accurately, attempt.” John holds the pole, long fingers gripping it tight.

“Just relax and follow my lead, yeah? You’ve seen this enough times, you’ve got a good idea of how it goes.”

“If you say so, Nick.”

Nick looks out to the floor, spotting his boss by the stereo system. “Press play, Andy!”

He nods and within seconds the instrumental track is blaring through the empty club. Their only audience is Warren, Amanda, Roger, and Andy himself. Even so, John finds this a little intimidating. He’s never been a dancer, his body too lanky and awkward to be graceful in any sort of way, let alone pole dancing.

He’s doing it for his friends, just something fun to get them pumped up before their night really starts.

Nick starts to sway, and John can already feel Roger’s eyes staring holes into him. It’s hard to keep a straight face when he just wants to smile; Roger makes him smile.

_ Out on the tar plains, the glides are moving _

_ All looking for a new place to drive _

They make eye contact, Simon’s voice the backdrop to their moment. John finally cracks a smile.

_ You sit beside me, so newly charming _

_ Sweating dew drops glisten, freshing your side _

Nick lets himself get lost in Simon’s voice, thinking of when he sung this song to him for the first time. That night was beautiful.

_ And the sun drips down bedding heavy behind _

_ The front of your dress all shadowy-lined _

Nick remembers feeling dreamy, cloaked in a red glow and heavenly moonlight. And this moment, in a way, is their own to savor. It’s their own to grow closer entwined in each other’s lives, in each other’s art, too.

Together, he and Simon have everything.

_ And the droning engine throbs in time _

_ With your beating heart _

Nick moves, body flowing like it comes to him naturally. John envies him a bit, though he tries to focus on his own movements.

Dale looks to him, reassurance in her kind eyes. John’s confidence recovers slightly. He can do this; he really does know this dance, just like Nick said.

The lights shift with the music, so bright and warm he can feel them. He closes his eyes for a moment when his head is back. When he opens them again, Roger is closer to the stage. He grins again, impossible to keep his emotion at bay.

_ Way down the lane away, living for another day _

_ The aphids swarm up in the drifting haze _

His legs wrap around the pole, Roger watching his every motion. He feels the music in his heart, the high volume and the infectious beat swaying him. John is growing to like this.

He begins to understand why Nick does so much. It’s like an ego trip: being watched, being desired. It feels amazing, even though there isn’t much of an audience.

Not yet, at least.

_ Swim seagull in the sky _

_ Towards that hollow western isle _

_ My envied lady holds you fast in her gaze _

Dale is surely a natural when it comes to dancing, though he doesn’t compare himself to her, or Nick, for that matter. John has lost himself in the track and no longer cares to fret about his own insecurity. Perhaps this is what he needed to shed his doubts about himself.

When he glances Roger’s way again, he feels the heat of a thousand suns on his face. John’s blush is prominent, spreading down to his partly exposed chest. He never thought it possible to feel this much, to feel so alive.

_ Sing blue silver _

Nick’s creamy thighs grip the pole tightly as he bends back, Simon’s haunting voice accompanying his planned movements. He breathes deeply, darkened lids fluttering towards the ceiling.

The drums kick in again. He slides down, the lights flashing blue now. It’s time for him to come around the front of the pole and drop to his knees, a favorite move of his that often gets the crowd riled up.

He looks back to John, winking at him. He’s proud of his best friend. Nick didn’t think it would be possible to get him up on the stage and on the pole, yet here he is.

Soon enough, the song draws to a close. Simon steps away from the microphone as the instrumental fades away. Their friends down on the floor clap and cheer, Roger running up to the stage to embrace John.

John lets himself melt in Roger’s grasp, heart pounding and wearing a wide smile.

“You did wonderful,” Roger whispers in his ear. “I love watching you dance.”

“You think so?”

Roger nods, pulling away from the hug but keeping his hands on John. “Of course I do, John. You’re beautiful.”

Then John feels a hand on his shoulder. 

It’s Simon. “I hate to interrupt your moment,” he starts, “but Andy says he needs to tell us something.”

“Oh, okay?” John narrows his eyes, a bit lost. “What’s going on?”

“Everybody but Amanda in his office, now.”

———

Simon’s big hands are on Nick as soon as they make it home, dropping everything to hold him close and press his mouth against his. He pushes him up against the wall, drawing a gentle sigh from him as they kiss frantically.

He starts to unbutton Nick’s shirt, his deft fingers working their magic. It falls to the floor within seconds, and then Nick’s reaching to undress him too.

“Celebratory sex should happen in the bedroom,” Nick says between kisses, panting slightly. “Don’t you think?”

Simon chuckles, mouth against his neck. “Alright, take me there.”

“ _You_ take _me_ there.”

Simon’s heart races at his tone; it’s so attractive. “Somebody’s feeling feisty tonight, huh?”

Nick couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face even if he tried. “I wouldn’t say feisty. Kinky, maybe.”

They both know he’s got enough of those to last them several nights. And then some.

“Even better. What’s on your mind, then?” he asks, eagerly awaiting Nick’s answer to that question.

“Take me to the bedroom and I’ll tell you.”

Simon isn’t in the mood to play around. Well, not in that way, at least. He scoops Nick up, his cute laugh in his ear as he carries him to the bedroom. He lays him down on their bed, ever so gentle, but perhaps that won’t last for long.

It all depends on what Nick’s in the mood for tonight.

He climbs on the bed, hovering over his boyfriend. “So, Arcadia and Missing Persons get a record deal and we’re celebrating in the bedroom. What could Nick possibly want?”

Nick’s eyes flick from Simon’s eyes to his lips. “I want you to blindfold me and tease me before you fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes.” Simon moves to get the pretty lacy sleep mask Nick keeps in his wardrobe. “You know, I was kind of hoping you’d say that.”

“Shut up,” Nick giggles, brushing a long lock of blonde hair from his face. “And hurry up, you know how impatient I can get.”

Simon finally finds the sleep mask, shutting the wardrobe. He holds it up, breath hitching as he gets closer to the bed. “I do know.”

He puts the mask on Nick, making sure it’s on properly. He admires it for a moment, caressing his face. He looks enticing, the black lace elegant.

Simon then pushes him down onto the bed. Nick looks so pretty this way.  His hands drop lower once more, resting at the top of his trousers.

He asked for teasing, and teasing is just what he’ll get.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> home stretch! i’m emotional 🥺

The rich scent of freshly brewed coffee eases John awake from a restful sleep. He’s cuddled up in sheets that aren’t his own, sheets that aren’t Roger’s either. The airy room is dressed in soft, calming blues and whites. A painting of a sailboat on a tranquil sea is hung above the double bed.

He opens his eyes to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. He smiles, squinting slightly, and sits up in bed. He’s a bit groggy yet warm; the kind of warm that seeps all the way to his bones.

He feels at ease, much more himself. They both needed this weekend getaway together.

Roger’s side of the bed has gone cold, though he doesn’t worry. In a few moments, he hears his familiar footfalls coming up the polished wooden stairs. They creak under his weight.

He appears in the doorway, holding something. John reaches for the nightstand beside the bed for his glasses, slipping them on his face. There he stands, a tray of breakfast and a sweet smile on his face.

“Good morning, my dear,” he greets, pacing towards the bed. “I was going to wake you earlier but you looked so peaceful. Couldn’t make myself do it.”

“That’s alright, I needed the rest. You really wore me out last night.” John smirks, thinking of their time together. Their _first_ time. “Damn.”

Roger hands John the tray, the delightful scent of pancakes and fresh fruit just under his nose. He slides into bed next to him, their thighs pressed together under the covers.

It’s comfortable and intimate; John notes how relaxed he feels. It’s all because of Roger.

“We keep having nights like that and you’ll wear me out too,” Roger gushes, blushing a bit. “You’re incredible, really. And not just in bed.”

“I could say the same to you.” John sets the breakfast tray down before them and leans in to press his lips to Roger’s cheek.

Roger’s grin is contagious. He reaches for his coffee, steam rising from the cup. Then he looks to John, his mouth opening and closing as if deciding on what to say.

“What is it?” John asks, keeping his eyes trained on his face.

Roger meets his glance. “I just realized how much more confident you are with me now. I love it, really.”

John hadn’t even noticed it, not until now. His heart jumps in his chest with the realization that he fully trusts Roger. He loves Roger. He knows he’s safe with him and that means more than he can express in words.

“You’re so open with me. You’re trusting. And I’ll never, ever break that trust. You mean far too much to me. You know that, right?”

John starts to nod. He’s so happy; his eyes sting with tears. He has never felt this way before with anyone else. What he has with Roger is like pure magic. “I know,” he mumbles gently. “I trust you completely.”

His eyes slip closed and feels Roger cup his cheek. He leans in to kiss his lips, urging away John’s tears.

“You’re gonna make me cry,” John tells him when he pulls away.

“Don’t cry, have some pancakes before they get cold.” Roger takes a fork and cuts off a piece, dipping it in maple syrup. He holds it up to John’s mouth. “Open up.”

He blinks and looks at him, complying and letting Roger feed him. The pancakes taste absolutely wonderful.

“You really can cook.” John’s tongue darts out to catch some syrup on his lip. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“I ask myself the very same question when I look at you.” Roger selects a plump strawberry from the dish and holds it up for John to sink his teeth into.

Smirking, John takes it into his mouth, knowing how closely Roger is watching him. His lips wrap around the fruit and he even sucks it, earning a raised brow from his boyfriend. Just the reaction he was hoping for.

“ _Tease_. I see you’ve learned something from watching Nick and Simon.”

John rolls his eyes. Roger isn’t wrong. “Maybe so.”

“Speaking of Simon, did he tell you he’s going out today and buying Nick a ring?”

“What?” John gapes. This is new information. He searches Roger’s face for any sign of it being a mere joke, though it appears he’s serious. “For real?”

“Yeah.” Roger takes a sip of his coffee. “He was afraid to tell you, that you’d let it slip to Nick.”

John chuckles after scarfing down another forkful of pancakes. “Aw come on, I would do no such thing.”

“Well, anyway. He told Nick he’s visiting his Mum, which he is doing, but of course he’s picking out a ring along the way. Nick has no idea what’s coming, he’s gonna be floored.”

“So it’s a promise ring, I’m guessing?”

Roger shakes his head, picking up a blueberry and popping it into his mouth. “Nope, it’s an engagement ring.”

“My best friend is getting married. Holy _shit_. Hey, we better go shopping for suits! I need something nice to wear. Knowing Nick, it’ll be fancy as fuck.”

Laughing, Roger places a warm hand on his arm. “Alright, slow down, John. Simon hasn’t even popped the question yet.”

“Yeah, yeah. You know me.”

“Of course I do. After we finish up here, wanna head down to the beach for the rest of the morning?”

John picks a raspberry up and holds it to Roger’s mouth. “Only if you let me feed you. It’s only fair.”

“Okay, good deal.”

———

Devising a plan to determine Nick’s ring size isn’t as easy as Simon thought it would be. Sure, he knows Nick has rings nestled somewhere in his things, but where exactly? He has so much _stuff_.

The man has so many accessories that Simon doesn’t even know where to start. Looking around, the top drawer of his wardrobe seems as good a place as any. He knows he keeps various trinkets in there, little things he wears from time to time.

While rooting, he finds plenty of chokers, necklaces, even faux piercings, yet no rings. Huh. The next compartment is filled with stockings of various textures and styles. Underneath a pile of multicolored fishnets, there’s a new blindfold Simon hasn’t seen before, with the tag still on it. He smiles. Nick is always full of surprises; it’s just another thing he loves about him.

He makes sure to put everything back exactly how he found it. He doesn’t want Nick to find out what he’s doing in here; that would ruin the whole surprise. Nick can’t know what he’s after.

Simon stands back, eyeing all the clothes hung before him. There’s a lot of black, a lot of sparkles too. Various shades of pink and blue are mixed with the monochrome, a few crazy oddball things too. Typical Nick.

He gets sidetracked, his hands gliding along glimmering sequined sleeves and smooth leather trousers that fit Nick just right. A few dresses he hasn’t seen him wear before are nestled at the end of the rack. To distract him even more, his lingerie is right next to those dresses.

There’s more than he thought there was. The pale blue babydoll is hung next to something lacy and black, sheer swirls running through the light fabric. There’s even a matching choker on the hanger; he needs to see Nick in this.

As if it couldn’t get any better, a beautiful red piece is next. It’s very asymmetrical and looks expensive. He imagines the glamorous, rich color against Nick’s skin. _Oh yeah,_ Simon recalls, while he examines the red strap between his fingers. _Ring._

He rummages more, moving some clothes to uncover the bottom of the wardrobe. There lies a black jewelry box, something Simon has seen a glimpse of even before he moved in with Nick. He gets it out, but not before listening to make sure he’s still busy with his keyboards. When he still hears the synthesizer, he proceeds.

The box starts to play music when he opens it, a twinkly little tune that he’s praying Nick can’t hear. A tiny gothic ballerina twirls with the music. It’s so very Nick that Simon can’t help but chuckle to himself. Of course he would own something like this.

Inside the jewelry box, he finds just what he’s looking for in no time. A silver ring glints underneath the bedroom light, engraved with swirls and flowers. He takes it out and quickly closes the box, silencing the music. When he does, he hears footsteps coming towards the bedroom. _Shit._

Simon buries the jewelry box back where it was before he went searching in Nick’s things, behind some of his more formal outfits and suits. He slips the ring into his pocket before he has the chance to lose track of it.

When Nick walks in, he’s shutting the wardrobe doors hastily.

He paces towards him, excited look on his face. “You need to come hear this, I think you’ve got the perfect lyrics for it.” A hand reaches out for one of Simon’s.

“Okay, you have a breakthrough or something? You look like you’ve struck gold.”

“I think I have. This album is going to be incredible, Simon. I even have a title: _So Red the Rose._ It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

“It is perfect, I love it.”

Then, to distract from the obvious, Simon pulls him in for a kiss. Nick takes to it on command, kissing back with the kind of passion fueled by inspiration. He feels his hands come up and card through his hair, which is now getting quite long.

Nick sucks on his bottom lip before he pulls away. He knows it drives Simon crazy.

There’s a question on the tip of Nick’s tongue. Luckily, Simon is prepared to lie, so he doesn’t find out about the ring. He’ll tell him the truth later.

Still, it’s hard to lie to those earnest green eyes. Especially when they’re looking up at him like _that._

“Why were you in my wardrobe?” he asks, his voice kept sweet.

“Just checking to see what you have in there. I don’t want to buy you something you’ve already got.” Simon leans in and kisses his cheek, keeping him close with two big hands settled on his waist. “That’s all, darling.”

Nick seems to buy it, easing Simon’s mind for the time being. “You’re so good to me.”

“You know I always will be. You deserve to be treated like royalty.”

“Oh, shut it. You big sap.”

They share a long, tight embrace right there. Simon feels the ring pressing against his leg. He closes his eyes, envisioning slipping a gorgeous ring onto Nick’s finger, being able to call him his fiancé. Then, eventually, his husband.

He has never desired anything so much.

He knows in his heart he’s doing the right thing. There is no doubt in his mind that Nick is the one, and only one, for him.

———

Simon opens and closes the little black box ten or twenty times, making sure the ring is there, making sure this is real. He feels impossibly warm. _Why am I so nervous? It’s not like Nick will say no._

He has tried not to raise Nick’s suspicions, though taking the night off of work probably did just that. He hates that he’s been having to lie to him so much; it doesn’t feel right, even though he has a good reason for it.

He takes his time, looking himself over in the bathroom mirror before leaving for _Arcadia_. Nick’s things litter the vanity, lots of eye makeup products and hairspray. Simon’s heart swells just thinking of him. He’s been anticipating this moment for a while now.

Tonight is the night he asks the love of his life to marry him.

Emotions overwhelm him, standing here staring at his reflection in the mirror. He removes the box from his pocket once again, gazing at the ring. It sparkles underneath the lights, just as Nick does when he’s dancing on stage.

A small, yet not delicate, red ruby heart is set alongside a beautiful band of black diamonds. He splurged, but it’s for Nick, so it was worth it for sure. It’s just his size. It’ll look stunning on his finger, glinting proudly underneath the flashing lights of the club. And later, paired with a wedding ring, anyone who sees his hand will know he’s taken.

Simon takes a deep breath, closing the velvety box again. He turns off the light and heads out, grabbing the bouquet of roses he picked up for him earlier.

His nerves wane.

———

Roger lets him in and makes sure he is unseen. And that his tie is on straight.

As the dancers are changing, Simon makes his way backstage. The red roses are hard to hide so he doesn’t try to. They are only a precursor; they’re not the reason why he’s here.

The real reason is tucked into the pocket of his trousers, in a little black box that feels as though it’s burning a hole in them. He’s so aware of it. He swears everyone he passes knows just by the look on his face, though that is impossible.

He is all strung out in the best way. He swears that when he lays his eyes on Nick, he’ll faint.

_This is it,_ he thinks to himself, standing outside Nick’s dressing room door. He has enough time. All he has to do is knock.

Heart pumping white hot adrenaline throughout his body, Simon turns and knocks gently. Instead of Nick yelling from the other side like usual, the door opens a few moments later.

“Simon? What are you doing here? I thought were going to see your brother?” Nick opens the door wider for him to come in, viewing the roses in his hand with wide eyes.

“No, I made that up so I could surprise you tonight.” Simon shuts the door behind them, then holds out the roses. “For you, my love.”

Nick looks delighted, that gorgeous smile of his spreading across his face. His darkened lids are glittery tonight, reminding Simon of the ring in his pocket. “You are unbelievable,” he tells him, moving in closer. “I love you.”

Simon lifts his chin with his fingertips, feeling him relax with the tender touch. “I love you too, always.”

They move in for a kiss, Nick holding the roses between them.

Simon gets nervous all over again, knowing the moment is perfect and right now is the time to ask the question.

“Nick,” he starts, “I need to ask you something.”

Of course Nick can sense the slight waver in his voice. He knows him too well. “What’s the matter?”

Simon clutches the bouquet, setting it down on the coffee table behind him. He feels the tears coming again. “Nothing, it’s just...” he trails off, feeling Nick’s gaze deep in his soul.

He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the little black box. He almost forgets to get down on one knee, so transfixed by the expression on Nick’s face; he looks as though he’s hardly breathing.

Simon blinks away a tear, feels it start to roll down his cheek. He opens the box, the ring revealed. “Nick, will you marry me?”

Nick jumps into his arms before he even has the chance to stand up. He clutches onto him for dear life, his fishnet clad legs wrapping around him.

He’s crying too.

“Is that... is that a yes?”

“Oh my god,” Nick says, pink lips pressed against his ear, “of course it is.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we’ve reached the end! i want to thank Tash for helping this become the beautiful fleshed out story it is. without her, it would’ve been about 7k and over with! thank you for all your help, it means so much to me. ❤️
> 
> and thank you to the rest of you for sticking with me. these past few months have been rough but this fun fic gave me something to look forward to. long live _et in arcadia ego_.
> 
> this is also the longest fic i’ve ever written for any fandom, so that’s neat!

His reflection stares back at him, a gaze full of wonderful emotion he swore he’d never feel in his lifetime. He didn’t believe he deserved it for a very long time.

After drifting in and out of partnerships that left him feeling dull and unwanted, he began to believe he was the problem. _Whose problem am I?_ He would ask himself that question frequently. He had himself convinced that no one could ever truly love him for him. At the end of the day, all he would ever be to any of the men interested in him is a body to possess in bed. Nothing more, nothing less.

His self esteem was boosted when he got hired at _Arcadia_ and became a dancer, though the job didn’t help heal all his wounds. He still remembered those awful words said to him by a man he never should have been involved with.

_ Fuck it. I’m done with you, all you’ll ever be is a pretty face in the end anyway. Well, I could fuck up your pretty face right now and you’d have nothing left. Isn’t that right, Nick? _

But all those words faded when he met Simon. Instead, they were replaced with compliments, with sweet nothings muttered in bed at four in the morning. With that smooth voice, and his tender, loving touch, how could he not believe him?

Simon showed him he wasn’t broken. Simon proved he was more than a body. Simon made him believe he was capable of love.

And now, standing here, getting ready to marry him, Nick couldn’t be happier. It’s such a magical, genuine feeling. The dark thoughts clear like clouds. The sun in his mind comes out. He’s happy. Truly, unapologetically _happy_.

Nick smiles at his reflection. His lips are painted pink, as usual. His makeup looks just as divine as it normally would. His blonde locks are held firmly in place, so much hairspray. John once joked that someday there would be a hole in the ozone layer due to his heavy use of aerosol hair products, and they’d name it after him.

He might be right about that.

The one thing about his look tonight that isn’t at all typical is the white dress adorning his body. A real wedding dress. He decided a long time ago that a suit wouldn’t feel as special on an important night like this one. Nick always reckoned if he would ever get married, he’d be walking down the aisle in a big, beautiful dress.

Just like the one he’s wearing.

What was once a mere daydream became reality; Nick feels so lucky to be here tonight. His and Simon’s first single as Arcadia is coming out in the morning, a song he’s really proud of: _Election Day_. The abstract lyrics seem to dance in his mind, as he turns to admire the back of his dress in the mirror.

_ Maximum big surprise _

_ Your smile is something new _

He’s been contemplating getting some more tattoos, possibly something on his shoulder. Bigger ones this time, too. He recalls his existing tattoos, touching behind his ear, thinking about the words underneath his fingertips. Simon named a song of theirs after that one. And his other tat too, of course.

Nick presses those same fingertips to the rose tattoo, though it is hidden underneath his intricate dress. An instrumental track of theirs was titled after the ink. _Rose Arcana_ , Simon named it, although the little red flower is anything but a mystery to him. He’s quite familiar with it. His gentle fingertips caress it all the time.

He imagines it beneath red lights, beneath leather and lace, fishnet and even plastic too, with Dale’s influence. He loves wearing all his outfits, being dolled up and working the pole. But it doesn’t feel the same as it once did. Being watched used to feel good, oddly validating.

Now, knowing he is desired by the masses in the crowds of _Arcadia_ makes him feel strange. He doesn’t want any of them. His heart has been set on Simon since the moment he laid eyes on him. He can’t imagine giving himself to anyone else.

Nick goes to bite his lip until he remembers he can’t mess up his lipstick. He’s due to walk down the aisle in minutes, and here he is, in the bathroom of the club. His reflection looks happy, though there is an urgency in his mind.

He has made a decision. It’s a decision he didn’t think he’d be making tonight, before his wedding begins. Sometimes the tipping point comes at an unexpected time.

Next to Simon, music is what matters most to him right now. His focus needs to shift to the music, so they can finish their album and get it out into the world. It’s so clear: he needs to quit dancing.

Then, only Simon will see him in those fishnets. He rejoices, finally stepping away from the mirror. Taking a long, deep breath, Nick prepares himself. _This is it._

He’s marrying the love of his life tonight.

———

Nick manages to break away from Simon, after the two of them have spent the past three and a half hours clinging to one another. He reassures him that he will return, not before pressing his lips to his cheek sweetly.

He wanders off, in search of one Andy Taylor. He finds him eventually, with Tracey and little Andrew sat next to him. He always figured he wasn’t the dancing type. Instead, he’s nursing a drink from the bar, his sunglasses perched atop his head.

“Andy, hey. Can I talk to you for a quick moment?”

Andy sets his drink down, standing up from his seat immediately. “Of course, Nick. I’ll be back, Trace.” He leans forward and kisses the top of Andrew’s head. He’s gotten so big.

They walk together, Nick leading him to a place where there’s less people dancing, drinking, and talking. That age old awkwardness between them has returned. Nick thinks about all the times they did things they should not have been doing in his office. He pushes those thoughts away. He won’t let that ruin his night.

In a few moments, they’re outside, Andy working on lighting a cigarette. He offers Nick one. He turns it down.

“Changed man, you are,” Andy says simply. He exhales, his cigarette smoke disappearing into the cool night air. “What’s up, Nick?”

He doesn’t want to dance around the subject, he’d rather come right out and say it. He looks to Andy, watching his face. “I don’t want to strip anymore.”

There is no shock on his face. Nick is surprised. He brushes imaginary dust from his dress, waiting for his response to the news.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to anymore, while working on the album and everything with Simon. That’s alright,” Andy speaks, his tone more earnest than Nick has ever heard from him before. “I’m proud of you, Nick. I bet you never thought you’d hear that from me. Just know I mean it, I saw potential in you from the moment you walked in my office for the first time. You’re... you’re taking off. You and Simon. You don’t need me anymore. And that’s okay.”

Nick can’t help but grin. He looks to the pavement. The awkwardness melts away, Andy’s kind words hanging in the air. “It wouldn’t have been possible without you, Andy. None of this would have been.” He pauses, looking up at the night sky. A plane is passing, its lights flashing. He and Simon will be on one soon. “I wouldn’t have met Simon if it weren’t for _Arcadia_.”

“Kinda makes me believe in fate, you know? You two met and because of that, now you’re married and doing music, like you always wanted.” Andy looks at him with a certain delicate fondness. It’s as vulnerable as Nick has seen him; his eyes uncovered, emotions on display. “And you know how I feel about that sort of thing,” he adds, laughing.

“I’m the same way, a skeptic. Though I really do think I’m on the right track, going where I need to go. I don’t feel lost anymore.”

Another long drag of Andy’s cigarette leaves them in comfortable silence. Nick admires the way his dress glitters in the moonlight, committing this whole night to memory.

“It’ll be hard to replace somebody like you, but it can be done. Dale and Warren will be fine. What matters is your happiness, and I can see it. You’re happy.” Andy gestures to him. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

He’s right. Nick holds up his hand and looks at the rings on his finger, that soaring feeling making a home in his chest. “I am incredibly happy, yes.”

“You deserve it. Oh and another thing...” Andy trails off, looking away, perhaps searching for the perfect words.

Nick waits patiently for those words.

“I know it was a while ago, and we haven’t talked about it, but I think now is a good time to. I’m glad we’ve ended the messing around. It probably wasn’t smart to be doing that with you in the first place, and I apologize if it put any rift between you and Simon.”

There it is. Nick doesn’t really know what to say; he didn’t expect Andy to be the one to bring it up.

“I’m glad too. It was poor judgment on my part, especially that last time.” He recalls John being involved too, regretting it even though they had done things together before in the past. “Simon doesn’t know. I’ll tell him someday, when I find the right time to.”

Nick knows it’ll never happen again: not with Andy, not with John, or anybody else. He’s fully devoted to Simon now.

Andy stubs out his spent cigarette with the heel of his leather shoes. “You and John have history?” he asks the dreaded question.

“Yeah, a long time ago though. We were teenagers. I wouldn’t do it again, any of it. Simon means too much to me.”

“Good, I’m happy for you. I’ve made mistakes too. Hell, I’m married and have been since ‘82. Just gotta learn from it and move on, it’s all you can do.”

“That’s true.” Nick feels as if a massive weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “Thanks, Andy. For everything.”

Andy flashes him a smile. “Thank you, Nick. _Arcadia_ wouldn’t be what it is today without you.”

———

“How many times have we said I love you tonight?”

Nick ponders it, he’s honestly lost count. “At least a hundred. But that’s alright, I love hearing it.” He starts to undo Simon’s bow tie with great care, to preserve it. “You know what else I love?”

Simon moves closer, hands on his waist. “What would that be?”

“ _You_.”

“Make that a hundred and one.”

“I love you, Simon.”

“A hundred and two...”

Nick giggles, absolutely elated. The sun is coming up and he has no desire to sleep. This has been the best night of his entire life. He works Simon’s shirt open, button by button. “I’m so happy,” he says, meaning it more than he ever has before.

“I can tell, darling. I am too.” He captures one of Nick’s hands just as he untucks his shirt, the one adorning the rings. Nick’s fingers curl around his hand, as Simon brings his knuckles to his lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

Simon has told him such countless times, yet it still feels the same as the first time.

“And I’m all yours. Aren’t you lucky?”

Simon kisses his rings, smiling against his hand. “Luckiest man in the world.”

Nick’s green eyes stare up at him, saturated in devotion. “Just wait until you see what I’ve got on underneath this dress.”

“I’ve already had to wait all night,” Simon whispers in his ear, letting his hand go. “You’ve been driving me crazy.”

“Help me get out of this dress, then.”

Simon doesn’t need to be told twice. Nick turns around in his arms and Simon finds the zipper, tugging it down to reveal his lower back. The torso of the dress is tight and sparkly, then leads to a fanned out portion with ruffles as dramatic as Nick himself. They reach the floor, graceful and gorgeous.

The top is strapless, which allows for some accessorizing. Nick chose a beautiful layered pearl necklace, with little tear drop shaped beads suspended from it. Simon pushes the dress down, guiding Nick towards the bed. As he pulls it off him gently, he is met with white fishnet stockings connected with garters to lacy white panties. So very Nick.

Nick admires the glint in his baby blues. “I knew you’d like it.”

Simon shakes off his shirt, laying it on the bed next to Nick’s dress. He dives in for kisses, capturing Nick’s lips with his own, cupping his cheek. Passion sets their touches aflame. He climbs onto the bed and presses him down, his red rose tattoo just beneath his fingertips.

“I’m the only one who gets to see you in this kind of stuff now,” Simon recalls, feeling so fortunate. “Seriously, Nick, I’m the luckiest man alive.”

“Unless I decide to do a photo shoot to promote the album,” Nick teases, wrapping his legs around Simon’s hips.

Simon kisses his temple. “Now that would help us sell records _for sure_.”

“I’m kidding, I’m all for you. Plus I’m confident we’ll sell plenty of records without me needing to pose nude.”

“You’re a page three girl and you’re not even a girl.”

“The lads can pretend I am, if they just blur their eyes a bit.”

Simon chuckles at the thought of Nick posing for one of _those_ magazines. Easing off of Nick to remove his own trousers, he remembers their single. “ _Election Day_ is coming out today. Holy shit.”

Nick watches him, arousal flooding his veins. “Think it’ll go straight to number one?”

“That would be a dream.”

“Some dreams come true.”

Simon returns next to Nick, settling on his back and stretching out. He lets his husband climb into his lap. Nick feels his golden ring pressing into the warm skin of his thigh, and so he places his hand on top of his.

The sun will soon be pouring light through the curtains, a new day upon them. A new life is waiting for the two of them, one in which their wildest dreams unfold before their eyes.

Nick leans forward and locks his lips with Simon’s, just like the first time in his dressing room in Arcadia. His hands rest on his bare chest, glittering pink nails against skin that will soon be tanned. His heart jumps in his chest just thinking of their upcoming honeymoon.

This is only the beginning: their new beginning, together.


End file.
